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They were classmates, Robert and the two women whose names were Lenore and Christie. They sat together, in the back of the room, while Professor Hilroy went on and on about sociology. The lectures were a little dry but he’s get excited when students would raise their hands to make points in class so it wasn’t all bad. This was summer school at Indiana University and class met four days a week, from 9.30 until noon.

So the week-end started on Thursday afternoon and this Thursday the three of them were in Christie’s car heading south to a place she knew where they could swim. It was a VW beetle, a tiny convertible, and the top was down. Robert was hunched in the miniscule back seat, Christie was driving and Lenore had shotgun. Hot wind buffeted them all and whipped Christie’s long blonde hair into Robert’s face. The radio was cranked up and they were all singing along. They were classmates—they didn’t even know each other’s last names.

Robert asked what kind of a place it was they were going and Christie said that it was an old quarry and that usually there was nobody else there and they could go in naked. “You guys are OK with skinny-dipping, right?” she said as she scanned the road ahead for landmarks.

“I hate my clothes,” Lenore responded, “I can’t wait to get these goddamn things off my body.”

“Why wait?” Christie said. “There’s nobody on this road but us chickens.”

Lenore laughed and pulled her t-shirt over her head and tossed it into Robert’s lap. No bra. “I love the feel of the sun on my tits!” she shouted.

Christie pushed her shades up into her hair and glanced over at Lenore. “Honey, you’ve got some nice nips,” she said.

Behind Christie Robert cocked his head for the side view but Lenore saw him looking and turned in her seat to give him a better gander. Christie was right—Lenore was small-breasted but her nipples were something else. They were big and dark red and they jutted out from her tits like they had a mind of their own. Lenore smiled at him and tapped her teeth with the tip of her tongue.

Robert’s cock had a mind of its own too—it was straining to get out of his shorts and into the front seat to meet and greet Lenore. Robert’s cock wanted to lay its burden down, it wanted to lose itself in the corridor of that smile where Lenore’s quick pink tongue would take over its education and bring it to the seat of higher learning. “Do you like ’em Robert?” Lenore asked.

“Bus coming,” Christie said matter-of-factly.

It was in the opposing lane, a big red and white Indiana Trailways. Lenore crossed her arms over her naked chest and smiled up at the driver as the bus rolled by. Robert saw the man’s head jerk but the bus didn’t swerve.

“OK,” Christie said, “here’s the train track crossing so we’re almost there.” They’d been paralleling the railroad since they left Bloomington but now it crossed the highway at an angle and disappeared into the trees to the east, to their left. Robert had studied maps of the area and knew it to be the old Monon line to Louisville. Not much traffic on it now from the wavy look of the rails.

A hundred feet further up the road Christie turned onto a barely paved lane. They bumped over the potholes for half a mile and then she eased the car off onto a cleared area by a metal No Trespassing sign nailed to a tree. She grabbed a daypack from the trunk and they were off down a trail into a copse of woods. Lenore had collected her t-shirt but hadn’t put it back on. All three were wearing shorts and Robert, not quite knowing what to make of all this, was glad that his were baggy enough to hide his continuing reaction to Lenore’s boobs.

Christie had on a man’s shirt that was way big for her, that flopped over one shoulder or another. She unbuttoned it and pulled it off as they walked and tied its sleeves around her waist. She was wearing a black bra and Lenore said it wasn’t fair for her tits to be covered when she—Lenore—was half-naked.

“Well,” said Christie, “if you insist and if cute-boy here will hold my bag for a moment I’ll let you see the full monty.” Robert held her book-bag and Christie reached around and undid her snaps—she shucked the bra off and stuffed it and her shirt into the mouth of the bag as Robert tried to keep his cool. Her tits were bigger than Lenore’s but not by much and her nipples were smaller and almost bright red and their tips were perfect little knobs. Robert’s cock was so hard that it ached. He liked that she’d called him “cute-boy.”

“You got some nice boobies, too, girlfriend,” Lenore said and reached over to balance one in the palm of her hand. Then she let her hand wander up over the surface of the other woman’s breast and she rotated her palm and teased Christie’s nipple that way until Christie, very softly, said “Oh,” at which point Lenore leaned in and kissed her on the mouth. Then she pulled back, smiled, and kissed her again.

Robert saw Christie open her mouth for Lenore’s second Anadolu Yakası Escort foray and now he watched their lips grip and loosen and rearrange themselves as the kiss got serious, as they got their bodies into the whole event. It was a hot day and Robert observed how their tits and bellies were glistening with sweat as they pressed and slid against one another. It was a very hot day indeed and Robert, still holding Christie’s bookbag, felt like he was heat itself. Now Christie drew back a little so she could lick Lenore’s full lips and her eyes and neck too: Robert had never seen a tongue as long as Christie’s—it came way out of her mouth, almost like the tongue of an animal. Then, suddenly, she stopped licking and dropped to her knees right in the middle of the path and rubbed her face back and forth against Lenore’s crotch. She reached up and hooked her fingers into the elastic of Lenore’s shorts and Robert could see that she about to pull them down when he heard voices in the woods behind him.

“People coming,” he said.

He tossed Christie’s shirt to her and the two women’s tits disappeared into their tops just as a troop of high school kids lugging coolers and a grill hove into view. Everyone exchanged greetings and Robert and Christie and Lenore stepped aside to let them pass noisily by. “They’re going to have a g.d. picnic,” Christie muttered.

And indeed they were. The trail arrived at the quarry a little ways on and the kids were setting up the grill and some had stripped to their suits and were leaping into the water and screaming as they leapt. Robert and the two women paused and walked on, following the curve of the quarry, following the path. And suddenly they came upon the railroad track that they’d crossed in the car. On it sat a line of boxcars with a red caboose coupled in among them.

The tracks hugged the edge of the quarry. “I bet this is how they hauled marble out of here in the old days,” Robert said. Christie and Lenore had climbed up onto the platform of the caboose; the door to the cabin was padlocked but Christie discovered that it had been padlocked carelessly and that the arm slipped right out of the body of the lock. Christie pushed on the door and it swung open. “Ooh,” said Lenore, “it’s nice in here.” And it was: two bunk beds, one on either side of the car, a desk with a leather-covered chair, a shiny metal washbasin. Ladders on both sides gave access to the cupola, where pairs of leather seats faced one another, one set on each side of the caboose. Christie said, “I thought these things went at the end of the train.”

Robert had joined them inside the car. “They don’t use cabooses anymore,” he said, “and the railroads are selling them off to individuals, regular people.” He’d seen a line of them for sale, he said, on the south side of town, and this one had probably been bought and, by the look of it, fixed up, and was being shipped off to the new owner as part of a freight train. They looked out the window and saw the high school kids gathered around the grill.

“We can swim later,” Christie said, “after they go home.” And then, looking at Robert and Lenore, “Right now I want to fuck.”

She slipped two of her fingers into the band of Lenore’s shorts. “I’ll get to you in a moment,” she said to Robert, “but when those kids showed up I was about to eat Lenore’s pussy, and I’ve been thinking about that ever since. But I have to be polite.” And then, looking into Lenore’s eyes: “Mother, may I?”

Robert remembered the old permission games from kindergarten. He’d always found them tedious but the kindergarten girls had liked playing them over and over, never tiring of the ritual.

“Simon says, eat my pussy,” Lenore whispered.

Robert began to find the ritual interesting. He watched as Lenore’s shorts seemed to float to the floor of the caboose. In an instant Christie was on her knees again, kissing and licking Lenore’s thighs, her beautiful thighs, and slowly making her way north to the subtly bisected V where they ended. Lenore’s shorts had pooled around her feet and now Lenore stepped out of them and out of her sandals and lay back on one of the bunks and spread her legs wide. Her cunt was the most lovely thing Robert had ever seen—its pouty lips and the little jut at the top where her clit was crouching. Christie was staring too and breathing deep. “I love that you shave your pussy,” she said, “and I love the way you smell.”

And then she stuck her long tongue as far as it would go inside Lenore.

Lenore opened her eyes wide and said “Oh, mama,” and Christie just kept right on licking and licking, teasing and thrusting. She had her hands up under Lenore’s t-shirt and Robert could see them moving over Lenore’s tits. “Oh, mama,” Lenore said again, softer this time, and then she murmured it a couple more times and then she just moaned.

Robert sat down on the opposite bunk and watched the back of Christie’s head bobbing Kurtköy Escort and thought hard thoughts about her promise to get to him in a moment. He stared at the bulge his cock was making in his shorts. Then Lenore called his name and he was at her side in a second. “Hold my hand,” she said softly.

She intertwined the fingers of her left hand with Robert’s and let her right hand wander through the blonde storm of Christie’s hair. Christie’s hands stayed active at Lenore’s tits and in a moment Robert heard Lenore’s breath change and she squeezed his hand tighter. Robert thought his fingers might break but he didn’t complain.

“I’m coming,” she said, plain and without inflection, as though she were announcing the time on the radio.

But then she trilled a chain of vowels that got loud and then louder and her back arched and she pushed her bare feet against the floor of the caboose and her ass left the bunk and she pressed her cunt hard against Christie’s incredible mouth and she came shrieking, like she was an airplane breaking the sound barrier.

“I felt the fucking earth move,” she whispered a moment later when her breathing had slowed down enough for words. “It actually fucking moved. And it hasn’t stopped yet. Girl, you are good.”

But Robert had realized that it was the train that was moving.

He gently let go of Lenore’s hand and looked out the window over her head. They weren’t flying along but they were picking up speed.

Christie’s face was suddenly next to his. “Well this is an interesting turn of events, ” she said. “How fast do you think we’re going?” Her face was wet and Robert could smell Lenore.

“About twenty miles an hour,” he said. He could feel the speed leveling off. “It’s not really all that that fast but we’d have an even chance of breaking some bones if we tried to bail, so I think we’re on for the duration.”

“Where do you think we’re going?” Christie wanted to know.

“We’ll go through Bedford,” Robert said, “but we’re likely being delivered to the main line down in Mitchell. It’s about fifty miles so it’ll take a couple of hours, maybe three. These tracks are pretty bad. When we get close they’ll slow way down, down to walking speed, and we can roll off then and figure out how to get back up to Bloomington. I think there’s a bus.”

Christie looked at him, amazed. “How do you know this stuff?” she asked.

“I like maps and trains and schedules,” he said, suddenly embarrassed. “I like knowing where stuff is.”

“I think that’s cool,” Lenore said, as she sat up and joined them at the window. “So we’re on an adventure and besides I love riding the train,” she added.

“You love riding my face, honey,” Christie said.

Lenore smiled and moved closer and suddenly Christie gasped. Robert looked down and saw Lenore’s hand inside the other woman’s shorts, saw the outline of Lenore’s fingers at Christie’s cunt. “I know what you love,” Lenore said, “I know you’re a finger slut.”

She pulled her hand out of Christie’s shorts and took hold of Robert’s fingers. “Feel her,” she said, “she’s a bushy girl but feel how soft her hair is.” Robert let Lenore move his hand down Christie’s front and suddenly there was a tickle and a soft bristle against his fingertips and then there was the slippery wetness of her vagina. Lenore’s fingers guided Robert’s—she stroked the back of his hand as she maneuvered him onto the small bump of the other woman’s clit. “Be gentle, now,” Lenore said, “just like in the song—she needs a man with a slow hand.” Christie turned her face to Robert and Robert felt like his hand was on fire.

“I love train rides,” Lenore said again.

They’d left the woods and were rocking across some open country. Farm buildings and a house shimmered in the distance and Robert continued to tease Christie. They drifted across a bridge over a wide creek—below them, a little man in a canoe was fishing. The train rounded a bend and the classmates caught sight, for the first time, of the engine—a single big yellow and blue diesel with a picture of a sleeping cat on the side. Greasy black exhaust chuffed out of its smokestack and they could hear the laboring stride that was taking them south. Tentatively, with Lenore’s hand now at his wrist, Robert moved his middle finger down beyond Christie’s clitoris and slipped it into her cunt.

At that point Christie disengaged herself from Robert and Lenore and retreated to the bunk across the caboose. Robert was petrified, afraid he’d gone too far. He started to apologize but Christie cut him off.

“Robert,” she said, “will you please take off my shorts for me? It’s too hot to be wearing clothes and I’m tired from making Lenore come and I liked your finger in my twat so much that I think I need to do something with you.” She raised her legs, kicked off her sandals and flexed her long toes.

Robert’s hands shook as he pulled Christie’s shorts down her legs. Pendik Escort He folded them quickly and set them next to her on the bunk. Lenore giggled.

“Robert,” Christie said, “can you get my panties too?”

She lifted herself from the bunk and Robert took her underpants off revealing the thick yellow curls that had tickled and delighted his fingers so. Robert watched, mesmerized, as Christie twirled a wisp of pubic hair with her fingers.

“Do you like them hairy or do you like them bald,” she asked.

Robert glanced back at Lenore. She had sat back down on the bunk and she smiled and winked at him and let her hand drift over her smooth mons. Both women were now naked from the waist down.

“And Robert,” Lenore said, “you never answered my question about whether or not you liked my tits.” Once again, she pulled her shirt over her head, tousling her thick hair a little. She ran her hand over her big nipples and Robert stared. “So do you like ’em, Robert?” Lenore asked.

“They’re beautiful,” he stammered.

“Do you like my tits, Robert?” Christie asked. She took off her shirt and placed her hands underneath her breasts, bouncing them.

“They’re gorgeous,” Robert breathed.

“So do you like bald pussies or hairy pussies?” Christie asked again.

Robert felt giddy and dumbstruck. “I like ’em both,” he stammered.

Christie, unfazed, continued to tease her pubic hair. “Robert,” she said, “there are two naked girls here with their hands in the cake.” She was right—both she and Lenore were now completely nude and rubbing their pussies. “Why are you still dressed?”

“Good point,” said Lenore, imitating Professor Hilroy, “good point indeed.”

“Robert,” said Christie, continuing the imitation, “it is incumbent upon you to remove your clothing and—how might I put it without seeming too crude?—fuck me.”

“Robert,” said Lenore, back in her own voice, “I’m kind of a come-freak. Do you mind if I beat off while I watch you and Christie make the beast with two backs?”

“If you’d like, that’d be fine,” Robert said. “I mean, I’m cool. Like whatever.” He was trying not to stare at Lenore’s pussy, was trying to not watch the intricacy of her fingers as they teased her clit. “Really. Whatever you want to do is OK by me if you know what I mean.”

Lenore laughed. “Stop babbling and go to Christie over there,” she said, “but you save some jizz for me, OK?”

“Robert,” Christie said.

Robert peeled off his t-shirt. He was skinny and pale and breathing hard.

“Simon says, suck my tits first and then fuck me,” Christie said again, softer this time. “Please.”

He pulled off his shorts and jockeys—almost falling over in the process—and held them up in front of his cock.

“Come here,” Christie said, gently sweeping Robert’s bundle onto the floor of the caboose. She held him by his hipbones and moved her face close to his cock. A fat drop of pre-cum had formed at its end and Christie nabbed it with the tip of her nose. The clear liquid made a suspension bridge between them. Robert had never been harder in his nineteen years on earth. “I like your penis,” she said and then had him turn around and show it to Lenore.

“Nice,” Lenore said. She leaned forward and gave it three tiny kisses. “Now go back there and stick that nice stick into Christie.”

Christie lay back on the bunk bed and Robert knelt between her legs and kissed her neck and her breasts; he sucked her nipples, as he had been instructed, and felt them get a little big in his mouth. Her body was hot and salty—she tasted good. Christie reached up and cupped his balls in one hand and stroked his cock with her other. “Robert honey, you’re shaking,” she said. “Just relax.”

Relax? Robert had left the family farm just a year ago and he had never been naked with a woman before. Everything, up until this moment, had been strictly above the waist. He’d had bare tit twice from his high school girlfriend but she’d never touch his cock, even through his pants, and she’d gone to school in New York anyway and the last year—his freshman year at Indiana—had been long and dry, even for a shy boy from the country. And now here he was in this caboose, naked himself and poised above his truly gorgeous naked classmate who was urging him to relax.

The train lurched and Robert fell forward on top of Christie, his cock on her belly. “Try again,” she laughed, and then took hold of him and guided his penis inside her.

Robert came immediately. Jism shot out of his cock in three or four or maybe six spurts and he thought, for a second, that his heart too was about to be sucked down and pulled into the intricacies of Christie’s cunt and that that would be OK. His chest and his feet and legs tingled and then burned and ached with pleasure and the big head of his cock felt like a live wire, a conduit receiving jolt after jolt of pure energy and throwing off energy wildly, ecstatically, in return. His eyes clamped shut and his mouth dropped open in wordless joy. This was religion and Robert had converted suddenly and irrevocably—he was a true believer. He never wanted to stop the worship, he never wanted to take his cock out of Christie’s divine and slippery cathedral.

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

The actors in this script are of legal age. This is a work of adult erotic fiction and contains descriptions of sexual acts between consenting adults. If you’re under the age of consent where you reside, delete this file immediately. If it is illegal to obtain adult literature where you reside, delete this file immediately. If it’s entirely legal for you to read sexually explicit material, I hope you enjoy the story!

This story cannot be posted or reused elsewhere without the permission of this Author.

*

1

I’m in the book stacks of the Library desperately looking for a book I need to write a report on to pass my Literature Class. If don’t do well I’ll loose my Baseball scholarship and it’s the only way I can continue College. I’m desperate for a solution.

Wandering through the stacks, nearly lost, I literally bump into a girl as I turn the corner nearly knocking her down. I have to grab her by her waist to keep her from falling to the floor with her heavy load of books. She’s about five ten, dark blond, fairly well built if a bit gangly with horn rimmed glasses. Certainly no fashion image with her rather stringy and disheveled hair.

She’s wearing a loose fitting old fashioned style print cotton dress, crouched linen shawl, large high top orthopedic shoes with knee high gray wool socks and a well worn man’s gray felt bowler hat. She also has on a large, thick and very soft light silvery gray to black fur vest with big patch pockets.

Despite her decidedly Mousey and bookish appearance I’m having a slight twinge in my crotch. Quite surprising and it causes me to come up short and stop my book pursuit.

Maybe she can help. She seems to know her way around down here with her arms full of Library books. She’s blushing and shifting her eyes down as I speak to her. I always look women in the eyes intently when I talk to them. They like the attention.

“Hi, maybe you could help me? I can’t seem to find this book I need to write a report on for Literature class. It needs to be done in the next few days and I don’t have a clue what it’s all about.” As I search for eye contact.

“What book?”

She grabs my eyes with hers and I hand her a slip of paper with the book title and she finally smiles in an extremely confident way.

“I happen to have it right here and was on my way to check it out. I need to read it for my History class research.”

Fumbling with the books she drops them all on the floor and bumps into me again! I grab her again by the waist to hold her up and I help pick up her books.

“Careful, you OK?”

“Yes.” she says rather curtly.

“If I don’t get this report in and do well I will lose my Scholarship.”

“Well I wouldn’t want to be responsible for that. Maybe we can work something out?” grinning with a gotcha look.

“I need a lot of help beyond the book report. You seem to be someone who might be able to help me. Would you be interested in maybe tutoring me some? I can pay you something.”

“My academic schedule is pretty jammed up most of the day but I could help you in the evenings and weekends. I would be happy to help you if that would work for you?” with a cryptic smile.

“I will meet you anywhere any time to get out of my predicament.”

I’m thinking .. I have never asked anything remotely like this of a woman before. What is getting into me with this girl? Looking into a girls eyes gives me control but she makes me weak with her return stare .. like she’s in control.

She’s continuing to get a healthy rise out of me as we talk much to my surprise. She has a very sexy, soft and lush sounding voice that is incongruous with her Mousy appearance. I realize I’m starting to become strangely infatuated over this rather Mousy girl and can’t figure out why.

Normally I have circumstances with women totally under control since I’m reasonably handsome and tall. I have a book of lines for most women under most situations. I normally have an easy way with women. This girl is not in my book. I’m strangely uneasy, uncertain and getting very turned on at the same time! But I’m also desperate and maybe this has something to do with my response to her?

“Why don’t you meet me at the Student Union Hall after classes and we can go from there?”

“5PM for Dinner and I buy.”

Bill and Jane leave together and he waves to her as he heads for the Gym. She’s quickly off in the other direction.

As I approach her in the Hall later on I notice that she’s not bad overall. Not the best looking figure I’ve seen but generally very healthy looking and well proportioned if a bit wiry. Kinda hidden by all those baggy clothes. She must have gotten that dress and hat at the third hand store. “She must work at being mousy.” I mutter to myself as I approach her.

“What did you say?”

“I said you look nice.” A little lie wouldn’t hurt. Jane totally ignores my remark.

My mind is running overtime .. Boy, she doesn’t go with any of the regular approaches!! Anadolu Yakası Escort She’s real short on banter.

We walk in almost total silence across campus for the first few minutes and she’s softly bumping into me as we walk. She’s staggering under her load of books and I’m getting brushed by her fur vest even more as we walk. I take her book load without protest. Finally a small concession.

“When you read the text don’t get distracted by the authors flowery words and side roads from the main subject. You will never get through it. I am totally busy tonight with other things so take the book and read as much and as fast as you can tonight. I’ll meet you before class in the morning to get it back from you.”

She sure gets right to it with no sweet talk. I take her to a Restaurant just off campus that students go to only for special occasions. I’m thinking it will impress her. I’m wrong. She returns the Salmon to the kitchen as to dry. She’s right and this is really getting to me. I’ve never encountered a woman like her before. She’s still just as Mousy but I’m strangely turned on by her.

“I expect you to give me a brief synopsis of what you manage to get through tonight in the morning when we meet.” Demanding too.

My previous experiences with women, girls really, have not been very serious and though only a few have been really dim, most have not been top academic material and wanting in the seriously smart category. Sorority girls, Cheer Leaders and the like. Easy for me to meet and socialize with. Light and meaningless banter interspersed with occasional sex for the most part. About as far as things have gotten on the seriousness scale. No one I would take home to meet Mother.

I’ve been thinking about “upgrading” my love life to more substantial women. Mom is a very intelligent and creative woman who takes no guff from Dad or any other man and keeps me on the straight and narrow. None of my previous girlfriends come close to qualifying for that visit.

I’m thinking, I don’t know if she’s interested in dating me but she sure is seriously smart and intelligent. On that she scores big time and I still can’t get over how she turns me on?

I plow into the book as soon as I gets back to my room. The guys at the dorm are coming in and out trying to entice me to go to the tavern or this or that but I must stay focused. I’m up it till 3AM and up at 6AM, breaking my sleep regulations for Athletes, to meet Jane on time.

As I walk across campus I have this good, but unaccustomed, sense of academic accomplishment live never having focused on studying like this before. I managed to get more than half way through the book, difficult and convoluted as it was. At this I could make the deadline with time to spare.

She’s wearing a very lush dark mahogany A style Mink coat which still doesn’t change her overall disheveled and mousy look with a dress that looks like rags, work boots and a baseball cap with a pony tale out the back of the cap. I’m stiff as a poker! I proceed to give her my brief synopsis of what I read.

“Is that all you managed last night? I can see I have my work cut out for me. You missed the point in Chapter 5. You will have to re read that tonight.”

“You have read this book before?”

“No but I scanned it in the Library and happened to focus on Chapter 5 as it seemed to have importance. I’ll meet you for lunch and we can go over this some more.”

My stiffy’s gone! She’s turning out to be worse than my worst Professor. What a task mistress!!! She turns and leaves, her Mink coat flowing and swinging as she walks away and I’m once again stiff as a poker.

What is it with this woman? How can she do this to me and I like it? Jane is on my mind till I meet her for lunch.

***

Jane lives at home with her mother. Her Father left for another woman when she was very young and she rarely sees him any more. Mom and her family are quite wealthy and they are well cared for as Jane is the only Grandchild, much doted over by the wealthy Grandmother, Grama. Anything she wants she gets but despite all this she is most interested in learning and little in the way of personal aggrandizement, partying or socializing. Self effacing in her “style”, hence the second hand and peculiar clothes. A dedicated Academic to a fault.

Her Mom has many furs. A very large closet dedicated to furs. Jane found out as a small child that she adored furs, mainly the feel and pleasure of the softness, not the stylishness so much at all other than the beauty of the fur itself. Preening is just not her thing. She found furs got her strangely excited even when she was very young. In pubescence she discovered fur masturbation.

Being sexually self satisfying with furs Jane is still a virgin and is waiting for Mister Fur Right. Her fur fantasies are rich and creative, a fan of quality romance novels and classic love stories, she looks forward to the fulfillment of them all with fur added Avrupa Yakası Escort to the romance. So she wears any of her Moms furs she wishes whenever she wishes with her complete permission. Grama would make sure of it in any case. She and her Mom are the same size now so all fit her very well.

***

I’m sitting close to Jane at the lunch counter and Jane’s coat is so generous it’s rubbing up against me. It has to be a top quality thick fur and I’m getting stiff as a poker! WHY?

I’m explaining my understanding to Jane of the Authors intent in Chapter 5 and she starts to smile. I’m completely disarmed and suddenly weak as a baby like never with any girl before!

“You are finally getting the message.”

“What message?”

“You have to work for it.”

“Oh.”

“You have never had to struggle to understand anything your whole life I’ll bet. You have never failed?”

“Well no. I have always been good at sports and good enough scholastically in high school and my first few years here to get by quite well with very good grades. When I have had jobs I’ve done well and have been well liked.”

“You can’t just get by anymore. This Author won’t let you. If you don’t get what he is talking about you FAIL.”

“Oh, and I was feeling real good about getting so much done.”

“You have done well but it’s not a job like filling a wheelbarrow with dirt. When it’s full you’re done. You can understand and not finish the book!! That is why you need to focus on the message.”

She has such passion as she talks of these ideas. I begun watching her lips as she talks and my eyes are wandering over the gorgeous fur coat she’s wearing and how it casually falls over her body like it were a Blue Jean jacket to her. I have this sudden impulse to kiss her and hug her in her fur. She has dug deep into me in many ways today and my cock is telling me I’m very attracted to this disheveled mousy woman in the Mink.

The Authors message suddenly stabs into my brain!!! I get it. I Start talking nonstop about it to her. As I do the biggest and sweetest smile I have ever seen on any woman slowly moved over her face and my heart starts to pound in my chest like a drum. I’m totally turned on by this mousy bookish girl in ways I’m not at all understanding. She has dug much deeper into me than any model or beauty queen I have ever dated or had sex with.

“You can take me to dinner tonight and we will begin to put your report together. I think you are ready now. I’ll meet you at The Veranda tonight at 7.”

She leaves me sitting at the lunch counter since she said she had to run to meet her Professor in two minutes. If I had stood up everyone would be staring at a circus tent below my belt. It takes a few minutes for it to get down to normal so I can leave. I want to be with this woman more than I can imagine.

2

I walk into the Veranda at precisely 7. She’ll chide me, I know, if I’m a second late. This woman has me dancing to her tune and I’m loving it, Little Ms. Mousey!

Little Ms. Mousey is standing in the lobby with the most magnificent fur coat I have ever seen outside of my glances into Vogue at the news stand. She has to be noticing my bulge in spite of my trying to hide it with my book bag. She still has this disheveled and mousy look but her hair is better brushed and fuller tonight like she kinda tried. The casual draping of her attire is as before with a second hand store long, shear antique print skirt with a pair of cowboy boots. Tonight it looks oddly right somehow. She has on a thin light blue cashmere? turtleneck that really does look sexy under the fur. Her tits are small but much nicer than I had expected under the sweater.

“You are on time.” We find a table we like. This is a popular hangout for the academics since you can apparently bring your laptop, which Jane has with her, and you can occupy a table all night if you want. It is a large and spacious open air place and kind of cozy at the same time with no music and lots of talking and chatter. A perfect place for our task. I love the atmosphere. Jocks, sorority chicks and cheerleaders don’t hang out here.

Her fur coat is incredible. It is very thick fluffy, super soft and “over sized”. It’s so full I could wear it. She motions for me to help her off with her coat. As I grab it in my hands my cock nearly punches me in the chin. She turns her head to look at me and smiles with this afternoon’s sweet smile. I drape it back over her shoulders and we turn to sit. I can’t keep my eyes off her. The fur is a rich golden brown and gray with swatches of dark reddish brown and white tips running in a well organized and interesting pattern that makes the coat swell and roll, like it is alive, in an enticing way. I am compelled to compliment her on her fur reaching over and stroking it.

“Your fur is gorgeous. I have never seen anything like it before.”

“Why thank you very much.” Finally a favorable response from her!!

“What İstanbul Escort kind is it?”

“A Cross Fox and one of my favorites. I love the colors and texture.”

“It has been hard not to notice that you always wear fur?”

“I love fur and my Mom has enough of them so that I can wear it all the time. Do you like to see me in fur?” Uncharacteristically coy.

“Yes I do and they have all been very nice but this one is over the top. You look great wearing it.”

“Thank you. I’m glad you like it so much.”

I’m all over her and the fur with my eyes. She must notice this? But she is right back to business which somehow makes her even sexier. She’s so totally different from any woman I have ever been with. Much more complex and interesting.

“How do you intend to open your report?”

I begin telling her my ideas of the Author’s intent and how I think it should be described. All the time she is busily typing away. She tells me to come over and sit beside her so we can both look at the computer screen at the same time. I dutifully and eagerly comply. As I move in beside her I cannot help but be up against her wonderful fur. It is so big and full it fills the banquette seat. It’s flowing over into my lap as well as hers. I am immediately super stiff. I can practically feel the fur through my pants but at least it will hide the bulge in my pants. I can’t help but reach down and fondle the fur. It’s so thick and soft and it does nothing but make my cock stiffer yet.

Being so close to her for the first time I can smell her and she is as sweet as a flower and not from any perfume. I find that I am impulsively leaning closer to her and I am practically talking directly into her ear lowering my voice as I do. Her head is slowly moving like to a melody in her head nodding to my words and her hair softly swings as she does. Her warmth and that of the fur is starting to make me a little dizzy.

“Boy I’m getting a buzz off the espresso.”

“Maybe it’s all those new ideas flying around in your head? Tell me about Chapter 10 now.”

Chapter 10 is all about the erotic escapades of a pre French Revolution mistress with a nobleman. This is not helping matters and has me talking about what I am feeling now at this moment toward Jane!!! Did she lay this trap!!

“Very good. I see you are not the insensitive jock I thought you might be.”

God she did!!!

“Now let’s go deeper into the Nobleman’s thoughts and feelings. He is the other half of the story after all.”

I sure painted myself into this corner. My hand was gripping the fur as I speak and I have a major league hard on. I have no choice but to step into this discussion so as to finish the report.

After my heart pounding discussion of my thoughts Jane turns her head to me lifting her hands from the keyboard.

“I want you to read all of this from your minds perspective as if you are writing it. I just wrote down what you told me. Tell me if there is anything you would word or express differently because it is YOUR report.”

I am so deeply engrossed in the text that it’s quite a while before I realized how close we’re sitting. She’s pressed close to my side with the fur laying over my lap and her hand is on top of the fur on my lap. Her aroma is heavenly and it’s all mixing with the story of erotic love we have written about. She’s looking as intently at the screen as I am. We are both quite unconscious of our actions for quite a while as we sit reading the screen.

“What are you thinking Bill? Is this what you’re telling me?”

“You literally took the words from my mouth and mind. It’s even in my occasional stumbling English.”

“We can fix that.”

“No. It wouldn’t be mine.”

I moved my hand over and put her hand in mine and settled them in the fur. We are sitting still reading for a while like that, our shoulders pressed against each other. Jane finally slowly turns and looks into my eyes.

“What do you want to do now?”

In a soft and sweet voice, barely audible, our faces only a few inches apart. A clear recognition of the obvious. We just sit there gazing into each others eyes for what seems a wonderful eternity, our faces so close I can feel her breath, her lips slightly parted. Almost part of the story. I fondle her hand softly in the fur for long moments with my mouth hanging open to speak and no words came. Finally.

“I have always taken the lead with all the women I have been with until I met you. Why don’t you tell me for a change. It has been working very well up to now.” A big broad smile comes over Jane’s face.

“Thank you Bill. I’d like that very much. Let’s finish up the report so we can print it up in the morning.”

We continued reading to the end make a few minor changes and corrections and saved the file. We continue holding hands, except when typing and at the end I wrap my arms around her fur clad body and her hands come up to my face. We kiss in a long passionate wet, tongue entwined kiss. My cock is painfully rigid all this time. We slowly pull back, inches apart, and looked at each other for long moments then kiss tenderly several more times. She shown with a beauty from inside as with an inner light. At The Veranda it is not out of place for this to happen.

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Life is a tapestry, a cloth woven of many different threads that create the whole. This story is a thread, one of many, contributing to the waft and weave that is the Whole cloth, Being Jim.

*****

This story is based entirely on true experiences from my past. Names and a few details have been changed to provide anonymity for those involved. Discretion is a precious commodity and is becoming rarer and rarer every day. I reached way back to relive this story for everyone, I was the ripe old age of twenty eight years old at the time. Bear in mind that Cell phones were barely a novel idea at that time. The internet was taking its first baby steps and people were discovering the likes of A0L and to a lesser extent local messaging or electronic “bulletin boards”. How many of you out there remember dial-up modems? Cable TV was still mostly commercial free. Ah, good times. So in that frame of mind enjoy the memory.

I’m lying on my couch staring at the living room ceiling in my one bedroom apartment watching the play of lights dancing with the shadows from my vertical blinds covering the door to my balcony. The furnace is running nonstop trying to keep up with the howling wind and cold outside as the snow continues to fall at an unheard of pace. “A light dusting.” The weather guys on TV had predicted for the snow fall from the storm that was then approaching Lexington just over twenty four hours ago. Ordinarily they would have been correct, we usually don’t get much snow here in central Kentucky. Oh we get snow, but a few inches here and there is about it mostly. Glancing at the clock on the wall over the TV I note the time as nearly two in the afternoon. With a silent groan I roll over and face the back of the couch and punch my pillow again to make it more comfortable and shut my eyes again and try to go to sleep. “Damn” I think to myself, “I should have been to sleep four hours ago! I’m not going to be worth a damn at work tonight.” Night shift sucks, especially on a twelve hour shift.

I work in a factory here in Lexington and for the past six months I’ve been on the night shift, working from seven in the evening till seven in the morning, three days at a time, then I have three days off, or rather, nights off. For a single guy that’s not too terrible of a job situation, the pay is good and the work while long hours is not too hard really. It does make for a rather restricted social life though. Most of my friends work nine to five jobs during the day, so they really can’t relate to shift work at night, as such I miss out on a lot of activities and partying. Your body gets used to sleeping during the day and being awake at night, so your days, or rather, nights off end up being parked on the couch watching cable TV or reading. This town doesn’t have a lot of night life really. I tried to pass my time with hobbies, I took up photography, even took classes and learned to do darkroom developing and printing. I turned my apartment’s kitchen into a darkroom. The most addictive and distracting hobby I found was when I got a computer and discovered the then fledgling internet and chat rooms. Electronic Bulletin Boards, boy would they ever change my life! I surfed all the local sites after I got tired of “Americas Online”. The local sites were mostly free and the best part was when you struck up a conversation with someone they were a LOT closer to you than most of the folks on AOL. You could actually relate and hell even meet them. It was a whole new world.

One of my favorite sites was very popular with the locals, besides offering all the usual mind numbing early computer games and file sharing available for downloading, they had live chat rooms where you could play trivia at the same time. It was a great way to spend time day or night. I met folks and formed friendships that would go on to last a lifetime. It also opened my mind to lifestyles that before then I only had ever read about. One was an interesting couple that would later blow my mind. Even then, as now, people get bold when there is a measure of anonymity involved, they come out of their shells and say and do things that they wouldn’t normally do. Flirting was rampant to say the least. And like most guys, I was guilty of it too. But I must say that I was a bit naïve and maybe even timid in my flirtations back then. Hey, I was learning. I would chat up and flirt with all the ladies on this bulletin board, most would tolerate me as simply being funny, some would flirt back, but one lady really turned up the heat though. A little coy, a lot of innuendo, and some straight out talking but it was all in fun and she kept me coming back for more anytime we were both online together. I wouldn’t say that I was rude or even very forward but I made it clear that I was interested. Then she dropped the bomb on me, she told me she was married.??? Well Damn! I apologized to her and told her I didn’t mean to rock the boat or anything like that. Then I found out who her husband was, turns out it was another friend from the board. I Bostancı Escort felt like a heel. I caught him online the next day and took him into private chat and explained to him that I found out I had been flirting with and yes hitting on a girl that it turns out was his wife. I told him I had no idea and that I was so sorry and promised I wouldn’t say anything more like that to her… and on and on and on. Little did I know he was sitting in front of his computer laughing his ass off, with his wife next to him going “Awwww he’s so cute! We need to keep him!” Todd (his name) Later confessed to me about this as did Anne his wife. They went on to explain to me that they had an “open marriage” and that they both played with other couples and even singles from time to time. They were not offended by anything I said or did and in fact they thought that when I apologized when I had found out that I was genuinely worth spending time with. I was in for an education.

Over the next year I visited their house in the next town over to have dinner, help fix lawnmowers and work on their cars or just hang out and watch movies or play cards or whatever. We became very good friends. And I learned more about their unusual marital arrangement. Todd and Anne had been married four eight years at this time, the second marriage for both of them, their first marriages having ended badly in divorces over, of all things, infidelity. Both of their previous spouses had cheated on them. Not long after Todd and Anne had wed Todd had been in an accident and broke his back in two places. He did recover after a long time but never fully. He suffered from debilitating back pain nearly every day since. Medication helped but not always enough. On good days he could walk with the aid of a cane, on bad days he couldn’t even get out of bed. As a result, Todd had to go on disability and Anne took over as the main bread winner for the family. Family, right, they had two young children, an eight year old boy, and a six year old girl. Anne has worked all the way through both pregnancies right up to or almost to their births, and went right back to work just a couple of weeks afterwards. Todd became the stay at home dad mostly. Early on, even before the accident. Todd and Anne had made an agreement that they would never cheat on one another, both having been burned already. Then after the accident they had to face reality that sex was not always going to be possible for Todd, certainly not in the manner that they were used to. So they developed their open marriage. Both were free to flirt with and engage with other people even so far as to have sex with them, but the other would have full knowledge and could veto anything if they felt it was unsafe or out of bounds. They were swingers in effect, but with such an unorthodox relationship they were extremely discrete and very particular, at least of those they chose to bring into their bed so to speak. Man! They told me all of this over the course of a week or so, little at a time just to try to feel me out so that I didn’t freak out on them. I have say it did blow my mind, and I’m an open minded person, or so I had thought up to that point in time. They told me that it was okay if I didn’t want to “play” after learning about it because it’s not for everyone. But they really hoped I’d still be their friend even if I didn’t want to play. Well I didn’t flake on them and while I didn’t just jump in bed with them we went on to become good friends.

A long streak of bad days for Todd and a car breaking down that required hard to find parts led to Anne having to drive the worse reliable of their two cars because it was the only one running. This with the threat of snow had her on edge. Anne, though born a Jersey girl, grew up in south Florida and had never driven in the snow in her life. She was terrified of either sliding and having a wreck or their less than reliable car breaking down somewhere between Lexington where she worked as a hostess/assistant manager for “Danny’s” restaurant and their home in the next county over. Todd had asked me several times if I wouldn’t mind giving her a ride or letting her stay at my place if the weather and the roads ever got bad. I said sure, knowing that in reality we rarely if ever did get a bad snow so the likelihood of Anne gracing my apartment was next to zero. It was a nice fantasy though I must say. Knowing that I had an open invitation to “play” with Anne should we be so inclined or circumstances ever played out that way. What’s not to like about that?

Anne was a gorgeous figure of a woman, even after giving birth to two children. At thirty eight years old the shoulder length head of brunette hair complimented her hazel eyes and ready smile. She was a slender five foot seven inches tall narrow waisted gal with a nice little pear shaped ass. While she didn’t have overly large breasts, a modest thirty two inch b cup set that had a natural droop of course after nursing two children but they were flawless. I was later to find Ümraniye Escort out that they were extremely sensitive as well. Anne had some slender but well defined legs due to her job as a hostess, being on her feet long long hours. Those same long hours gave her hell with her tiny little narrow feet however, calluses and cracking plagued her almost as much as Todd’s back pains. I learned early on in our friendship that the fastest way to her heart was a good foot massage.

So it’s the second winter of our friendship and Anne is working on nights now as well. Often she would call me on her breaks knowing that I was likely still up on my nights off and we would chat about just about anything. Of course there was the playful flirting and innuendos tossed about as well, it was all fun. Sometimes it would be a three way chat, Anne and I on the phone and Todd and I online with the bulletin board. So far this winter due to warmer than normal temperatures we’ve not had much more than flurries and rain. So the weather prediction of a “light dusting” was not out of the ordinary and didn’t raise an alarm. Todd did make his standing request that if the weather did turn bad or worse could I look after Anne. It would allow him to sleep better knowing that she was not trying to drive in it. Of course I again said sure if it came to that. Hell I’d even go pick her up and bring her either to their house or to my apartment for the day. Little did I know what I was in for in a day’s time.

Thursday evening the weather man on TV was giving the forecast of the weather system moving into the area over the next couple of days. He said that due to the warmer temps we’d been experiencing it was likely to be all rain or at worst when the temperature began to drop we might have a light dusting of snow and flurries. It seems that the weather guys on the radio echoed this prediction so I didn’t think much of it and went on in to work for my second night of three in a row. Sometime around ten o’clock that evening after the sun had been down a while, the light rain and drizzle had begun to turn to snow. By one o’clock in the morning there was about four inches on the road and it was still coming down heavily. As the clock rolled around to six in the morning the snow had piled up to over eight inches of snow and was drifting. Lexington had been caught flat footed and ill prepared for this amount of snow. The few plows that the city had were not even out on the roads yet, no salt had been put down, and it was a mess. I got off work after seven that morning and was amazed at the amount of snow on the ground and roads. It was well over knee deep and it was still coming down pretty heavily. In the back of my mind I remembered my promise to Todd to take care of Anne for him. So instead of heading home to my apartment I drove onto the nearly deserted bypass and headed to the Danny’s location that Anne was working at. It was slow going even for me with a fairly new car with front wheel drive and good tires. I saw many vehicles stuck in the ditches or abandoned. Only heavy trucks and four wheel drives or the occasional front wheel drive like my own were moving about. With it snowing so heavy and still being almost as dark as the middle of the night it took me almost an hour to get from the factory to the restaurant.

After stomping the snow off my feet and legs at the entrance I saw Anne at the end of the counter talking on the phone and looking very nervous. She spotted me and it was if someone turned on the lights in a dark room, she lit up with that beautiful smile. I could tell she was relieved and assumed she’d been talking to Todd on the phone. As it turns out I was right. She told me he had been calling her and he’d been calling me all night trying to get in touch with me to ask again about picking Anne up. She handed me the phone to talk to Todd as she waited on a couple of customers. Todd asked me if it was as bad as they were reporting on the news and I told him it was but not to worry. I would bring Anne home. He told me that I might as well stay in town if that was okay with me. Sure I told him, if that’s what Anne wants to do. Mothers can be funny sometimes being away from their children and all. Todd told me of course the schools were closed due to the weather, he and the kids were going to be fine.

Anne came over to talk to me after taking care of her customers and asked me if I wanted something to eat. She apologized that she was not ready to go just yet because her relief was late, due to the snow of course. Her store manager was on his way in since some of the other staff weren’t going to be able to make it. So I got a late breakfast on the house. Normally Anne gets off at eight o’clock in the morning and is on her way home or even at home by this time of the morning. Since the restaurant was open lots of folks who were snowbound or stranded by cars that were stuck or not able to get around safely in the snow were holed up in here drinking coffee, eating and watching it continue to Anadolu Yakası Escort snow. And Snow. And Snow.

A little past ten o’clock that morning a tow truck pulled up outside the door with its yellow lights flashing and Anne’s store manager climbs out and comes into the restaurant. Shaking off the snow and taking in the number of customers he thanks Anne for staying till he got here. He told her she should get a room across the street at the hotel and not try to drive. He’d ran off the road that he couldn’t see and ended up in the ditch. The tow truck was on its way back to try to pull his car out. Anne told him that she was okay, she had a ride from a friend, and with that we put our own coats on and headed out into the winter wonderland. Anne didn’t have boots or any shoes suitable for snow so immediately her feet were cold and wet in just the short distance from the door to my car. Once inside it took a while for the heat to build up and warm her feet. As I was heading around the bypass with the intent of taking her home to her house she asked me if it would be okay just to stay at my place. I said sure, if she didn’t mind I didn’t mind. She was a nervous wreck as I navigated the snow drifts and ruts around the bypass to my exit. Even with the sun up and the snow beginning to light up it was not full daylight yet. The street lights were all still on and very few were out and about trying to drive anywhere. Almost an hour after leaving the restaurant I finally pulled into the parking lot of my apartment, and actually found a recently vacated parking space outside the door to my building. I carry Anne’s ‘just in case’ bag inside and open the door for her. Home sweet home, such that it is. I told Anne to go ahead and call Todd and let him know we made it to my house safely and that we weren’t going to try to drive to theirs.

I have a one bedroom apartment with a bathroom, kitchen and a small dining area connected to the living room. My bedroom has both my pride and joys in it, a huge metal government style office desk with my computer set up on it, and my big soft deep mattress queen size bed. My window in the bedroom and the doorway have blackout curtains on them so that I can sleep in the daytime. In my living room I have an old but very comfy couch. I’ve probably slept on the couch almost as much as in my bed. So me being the gentleman I try to be I offered her my bed for the day and told her I’d sleep on the couch. But first, a shower, I told her it was hers to use first. I asked if she wanted some coffee but she declined saying that she drank way too much last night as it was. I told Anne that I keep a robe on the back of the bathroom door, it was clean and she was welcomed to use it.

While she was in the shower I went ahead and changed out of my work clothes into a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt. I’d shower after she got finished. I brought a spare pillow and a blanket to the couch and turned on the TV to catch the weather updates. Seems the city had declared a snow emergency and was advising everyone to stay home and off the roads if at all possible. At this point we had accumulated almost sixteen inches of snow and everything was coming to a standstill. It was about that time that Anne came around the corner in my robe combing out he wet hair. Damn but she looked good in that robe, and the smell, well, the smell was all flowers and baby powder, very feminine. She watched a couple of minutes of the news and shook her head. She told me that when she had called home to Todd, he had told her that her boss had been trying to reach her. He needed her to come in to work again tonight if at all possible as the crew that works her nights off were not going to be able to make it in. She asked if I didn’t mind dropping her back off at the restaurant late that evening before I went to work myself. I said sure, but I’d better allow for the travel time with all this snow it’d be slow going. I noticed she was hobbling a bit and asked her if her feet hurt, she said yes they were killing her. I patted the couch next to me and said come here, I’ll make them feel better.

Anne sat down carefully on the other end of the couch and swung her feet around to my lap. As she did, the robe opened up enough to expose her gorgeous legs halfway up her thighs. I picked up one foot and she flexed her toes with a bit of a grimace. I wiggled each toe and bent them and pulled on them gently then with my thumbs I began pressing and pushing the bottom of her foot, rolling it from side to side and causing her to bend it downwards. I worked my way from just behind her toes down to the arch of her very narrow feet. Anne had her eyes closed and was oohing and aahing as she smiled contentedly. I palmed the heel of her foot and used my other hand to grip her Achilles tendon and gently turn and twist her foot at the heel. Her toes would involuntarily flex and curl with each rotation. As I began on the other foot Anne let out a low moan and told me I could do that all day if I wanted to. She said it felt so good she could probably have an orgasm if I wasn’t careful. Oh now you KNOW I was pumped up by that. Talk about an ego boost. And that wasn’t the only thing getting boosted. The swelling in my sweatpants certainly didn’t go without notice judging by the sly smile on her face.

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

I was sitting for Andy Mitchell and his two little angels had decided to change into two little demons on liberty from hell. It wasn’t really their fault, I guess. It was the weather. It was a hot sticky summer evening. There’d been a cool change forecast but apparently it had got lost somewhere along the way. It certainly hadn’t reached us.

The air conditioning took some of the impact of the heat away but it didn’t really help with the humidity. I swear the humidity was so high that the few birds that took to the air had to swim through it. It made for a totally mucky day and two very short-tempered little boys.

I finally dumped the pair of them in a bath half filled with cold water and told them to have fun and that I’d clean up the mess. Well, they made a mess, but it was worth it. By the time I insisted that bath time was up they were cooled down and totally ready for bed. I just tossed them both on top of their respective beds and they were out like lights. I just hoped that they’d stay that way.

With them out of the way I cleaned up the bathroom. It’s amazing how far two little boys can splash water and how much of it they can splash. Still, it was only water, so all I really needed to do was wipe everything down and the bathroom was sparkly clean again.

I wasn’t. I was hot and grotty. My clothes were wet (they really spread that water around) and I had just about reached the snarly stage, but I was still coping. Just.

I gave the boys half an hour and then checked on them. Both of them were dead to the world and looked like they’d settled for the night. Not that I trusted this observation. It’s the sort of situation that could change at any moment, resulting in two upset boys and an upset baby-sitter – me in this instance.

Still, I thought I would be able to take a chance on them waking up. I ran myself a bath. A full bath, not the half-way mark that the kids had. I also used lukewarm water, rather than cold, and bath salts. Lots of sweet smelling bath salts. I stripped off in the spare bedroom, the one I’d be in if Mr Mitchell was out too late. Wrapped in a towel I headed for my bath and some peace and quiet.

My lack of trust in sleeping children came to the fore. I didn’t take any music into the bathroom, restricting myself to a couple of magazines. I left the bathroom door open so I could hear the kids if they started to fuss. Not something I’d normally do while taking a bath but I’d be out long before Mr Mitchell got home and even if I wasn’t I’d hear him come in, so I wasn’t worried about being caught in an embarrassing situation.

(Truth to tell I wouldn’t be worried if he did catch me in an embarrassing situation because Andy was a honey. He was the epitome of tall, dark, and handsome, with a wicked sense of humour. I was surprised no-one had snatched him up already as it was over a year since his wife died. I might have only been eighteen but I could recognize a fine specimen when I saw one.)

I just relaxed in the bath, reading my magazines. I did take the time to wash my hair (rinse it really) but apart from that I just let the water drain away all the trials and tribulations of the day.

The night was still hot and sticky, even with the air conditioner, so I just stayed in the bath for quite a while. Not a peep did I hear from the kids, god bless them.

Finally, feeling as though I must be wrinkled up like a prune, I pulled the plug and got out of the water. I quickly dried myself and then used the hair dryer to dry off my hair. It didn’t take much as it had just about dried by itself. Wrapping the towel around myself I left the bathroom, heading to the spare room to get dressed. Actually dressed, rather than pyjamas, as it was still rather early. I’d worry about going to bed much later.

My get dressed plans hit a snag as soon as I stepped out of the bathroom. I ran into something big and solid. I guess the noise from the hair dryer muffled the sounds of Andy coming home.

No problems, you’re thinking. I just say sorry and scoot double quick to the safety of the bedroom and my clothes. That’s what I wanted to do, but I didn’t want to do it without my towel. I’d automatically grabbed hold of Andy to stop myself being knocked over and when I grabbed the towel took advantage of the sudden movement to become unwrapped and drop to the floor.

For one horrific moment I was standing naked in front of Andy. Not a stitch on. When I mentioned not minding an embarrassing situation I hadn’t meant one as embarrassing as this. It got worse by the second. Before I had a chance to bend down and İstanbul Escort grab the towel Andy did so. You know what that meant, don’t you?

He bent down but he kept looking at me, so as he bent over his head went lower and he had a close up view of my body, starting at my red face, moving down past a pair of white breasts that were inches from him, past my tummy, and finally getting a close-up of my nicely shaved mons. He couldn’t have given me a closer inspection if he’d tried and I couldn’t help but think it was deliberate.

“I, ah, believe you dropped this,” he said, his face perfectly straight. Inside he was probably rolling around the floor laughing.

“Thank you,” I managed to say, clutching the towel to me. Then I turned and bolted to the spare room.

I realised my error as soon as I turned around. I hadn’t stopped to wrap the towel around me. I was more interested in an immediate coverage of what he had examined and I just held the towel in front of me. When I turned around to scoot I promptly displayed myself as naked again, this time from a back view.

Face burning I hurried to the spare room, just knowing he was watching me. I could feel my bottom giving an extra little swish as I walked, but I swear it wasn’t deliberate. It was doing that without any help from me. I couldn’t help but turn my head to see if he was watching me and he was. Not only that but he was walking towards me, smiling.

I very nearly panicked, but common sense reared its head.

Don’t be an idiot I told myself. He’s not following you. He’s heading towards the main bedroom. Of course he was. I closed the bedroom door and tossed the towel onto the dresser.

The door behind me opened and closed and I froze. I slowly looked over my shoulder and saw him standing there.

“What are you doing here?” I asked, feeling stupid. I must have missed something, but what?

“I saw that are-you-coming look you sent me,” he said. “How could I possibly stay away after that?”

Me give him a come hither look? No way. And he knew it damn him. All I’d done was look back at him. That wasn’t an invitation. Was it? Who knew how men thought?

“I did no such thing,” I very quickly informed him.

“Really?” he said. “Guess it was my mistake. Sorry.”

That sorry didn’t seem to stop him from edging closer. His hand closed gently upon my elbow and he was turning me around to face him. I was naked and blushing and he was looking, damn him.

“What do you think you’re doing?” I managed to ask him.

“Nothing,” he said, then spoiled it by adding, “Yet.”

He didn’t release my elbow. Instead he just calmly sat down on the bed and drew me down onto his lap. At least, it was a bit better than just throwing me onto the bed, I guess.

“Listen, I don’t know what you think you’re doing but I’m not interested.” I intended that to come out firmly, using the sort of tone that pulled the children into line. Instead it came out the sort of nervous voice that the children use to try to explain why the dog has been painted green. Not at all believable.

“You do know what I intend doing,” he contradicted me, “but I’ll concede that you’re not interested.” Then he had to go and add that damned word, “Yet.”

“Not at all, ever,” I quickly put in. “You’re thinking of seducing me and I just don’t do that sort of thing.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he said, his voice all sweet reason. “I had already guessed that you’re still a virgin and I wouldn’t dream of trying to compel you to do more than you’re willing to.”

Now there was a way to cheer a girl up and let her down at the same time. Why not compel me? It wasn’t as though I could fight him off.

“For all that,” he continued, “I still intend to take a little taste of you. I’m just going to kiss you a little and we’ll see what happens.”

“I don’t kiss people while I’m naked,” I put in. I mean, really. Kissing someone while naked could lead to some awkward moments. There again, I guess that was what he intended.

“There’s always a first time,” he assured me, and then he did kiss me.

Did I mention that Andy was hot with a capital H? Well, he was, and he knew how to kiss. I couldn’t help but kiss him back, but that was all I was going to do. A few kisses wouldn’t hurt.

I’d momentarily forgotten that I was naked and suddenly I found out what a huge disadvantage that was. Normally if you’re kissing a boy and he wants to touch your breasts he’s got to get past your clothes. While he’s fumbling with them you can break off the kiss and remove Kadıköy Escort his hand. (That is, if you want to remove it.) You can’t do that if you’re naked.

One moment Andy was just kissing me and the next his hand was on my breast. My actual breast, not my top. I went to break off the kiss but he had one hand on the back of my head, holding me still. I suppose I could have protested but it wasn’t as though he was doing anything too terrible. It was just my breast that he was touching and it wasn’t as if it was hurting. Truth to tell it felt kind of nice, stimulating even.

I left his hand alone, concentrating on the kissing and the way his hand drifted across my breasts, stroking them and teasing my nipples. I could feel my nipples puckering up and idly wondered if he’d try to kiss them. (Only try, because I didn’t think I’d let him.)

His lips finally left mine, drifting across my face, dropping fluttery little kisses as it went. I found myself arching my head back as he nuzzled my neck, his breath hot against me.

His hand dropped away from my breast, stroking downwards and I tensed slightly. Then I relaxed again. I was holding my legs together and he couldn’t really touch me too intimately.

The slight distraction had served its purpose I found. While I was worrying about him touching me down there I overlooked the fact that his mouth was approaching my breast. Now he was actually kissing them and sucking lightly on the nipples. A bit late, it seemed to me, to protest now that he was doing it. The trouble, I decided, was that I liked it. Liking something doesn’t mean it’s good for you, I told myself very firmly, but I still didn’t do anything to stop him. I was just relaxing and feeling.

He continued touching and tasting and I just let it happen. I knew he was stroking my leg but that didn’t worry me. It wasn’t as though he could do much just doing that, although I was surprised to find out just how sensitive my legs were to a man’s touch. It was really quite erotic and I was starting to feel somewhat heated.

His hand finally moved away from my leg. I let it go as I was finding his other hand more interesting. His arm was curved around my back, supporting me, and he had decided that that support should extend to my breast. His hand was cupping it, his thumb once again teasing my nipple.

He was stroking my leg again and I was quite shocked when I found his hand move along it until it was pressing lightly against my mound. How had that happened? A glance showed that my legs weren’t quite as tightly closed as I’d thought. In fact they were separated quite a bit and his hand was now cupping my pussy, rubbing it. That was definitely going too far.

I dropped my hand onto his, holding it and moving it away from where it was. There was no resistance. He seemed quite happy to move his hand to where I wanted it. Ah, no, I should correct that. It turned out that he was quite happy for me to move his hand to where he wanted it, because that meant that my hand was also there. He caught hold of my hand and turned it over, pressing it against him, and you can imagine what was there, hiding under his clothes.

He left my hand there, his hand returning and starting to lightly rub my mound, while my hand just stayed right where it was, too scared to move. I couldn’t just leave it there, not really. The trouble was that I was also being distracted by Andy’s hand rubbing against my pussy, exciting me. I started to pull my hand away from where it was resting and found it got snagged in the material. I was confused for a moment and then I caught on. His trousers were undone. That meant if I just moved my hand under that piece of material. . .

Now my hand was really frozen to the spot, knowing what it would be touching if I moved it. I couldn’t help wondering what it would be like to hold it. I knew what it would look like, sort of, but to actually touch it, hold it?

I really had no choice but to move my hand and touch him. At least, that’s what I told myself. I didn’t tell myself why I had no choice, probably because I didn’t know. My hand slid sidewards, vanishing under his trousers and closing over the prize. By an odd coincidence when I squeezed what I found Andy also squeezed my pussy a little harder.

Andy had his mouth on one breast and his hand on the other while his other hand was doing peculiar things to my sensitive feelings. In exchange all I got to do was hold his erection, although I will admit that there seemed to be plenty for me to hold. I eased it out of his trousers and looked at it Ataşehir Escort and it was standing tall and proud. It also looked every bit as big as it felt.

We continued along those lines for a while, basically me stroking his cock and coming to know what it felt like, and Andy doing dastardly things to my body. I was breathing hard and thinking that his air conditioner must have broken down completely. Why else would I be feeling so hot?

I didn’t suspect a thing when he tilted me over and laid me on the bed. Everything continued the same as before, except that I was lying down and Andy was lying next to me. Mind you, he did use his toe to separate my legs a bit more but that didn’t really make any difference.

I found out otherwise when he rolled over and was lying between my legs, sort of half lying and half hovering over me. His hand was still rubbing me down there, just not as industriously as before, more like moving my lips apart. I’d lost my hold on his cock when he’d moved but looking along my body I could see it there, almost resting on my tummy.

I could see he was adjusting the position of his cock and I was wondering why and then it dawned on me. He was going to put that thing inside me.

It was an instant case of no way, Jose. I had not agreed to this. He was not, I repeat, not going to have sex with me.

“Hold on, Andy, that’s far enough. I told you I wouldn’t let you do this.”

Firm, strong, words, letting him know exactly where I stood on the matter. Still, maybe they would have been more effective if I’d actually spoken them instead of just thinking about saying them.

His cock was now pressing against me and I could see my flesh wrapping around him when he moved his hand away. My god, he was going to do this. In this situation a short sharp NO was required.

What was not required was my lying there, watching, and going, “Ah, ah, ah,” in a steadily rising voice as his cock continued to push into me. There was a stab of pain and a much louder, “AAH,” and I wasn’t a virgin any longer. Not that a little incidental like that stopped his cock from advancing, filling me up and then making more room, so it could fill me up some more.

He finally stopped, for the simple reason that he’d run out of cock, even if it did take a while to reach that point. I stopped looking at the point where he’d merged with him and looked at his face. He had a pleased and warm smile that lit up his whole face. I suspect that I had a more tentative and nervous smile but it didn’t seem to worry him.

He started moving, pulling out and sliding back in. Friends have told me about it but knowing and experiencing are somewhat different. He was moving quite slowly, looking at me expectantly. What was I supposed to do?

Oh, yeah. Certain conversations I’d had with girlfriends came back to me. The next time he pushed in I pushed to meet him, seeing a pleased look cross his face. OK, so now I knew what to do.

Andy settled down to a steady movement and I moved with him. My, but it felt absolutely marvellous. In no time flat I was in a dreamy state, just letting what was happening happen. I could stand a lot more of this and hoped to get it.

I don’t know how long this went on but I was probably purring while it happened. The funny thing was that after a while I was starting to feel restless. I didn’t know why, but there it was. I found that instead of just pushing up to meet Andy I was starting to grumble a little (just a little) as though there was something missing. At the same time I was feeling wildly excited, really loving what Andy was doing to me.

There was a sudden change to the way Andy was treating me. That lovely motion went by the way, with Andy now all macho and dominating, his cock driving into me fiercely. I was all, “What the hell?” and then I imploded or something. I guessed afterwards that I’d climaxed. All I knew was that my body went berserk, huge waves of pleasure just rolling through me, leaving me shaken and fuzzy feeling.

I finished up flat on my back with Andy lying next to me, his hand holding one breast. (Amazing, isn’t it. Show a man a breast and they grab for it.) Andy didn’t seem to have anything to say at that point and me, while I had plenty to say I wasn’t sure how to go about saying them.

That’s the point we were at when the first whining sound started up, flowed seconds later by a second whining sound. I was halfway off the bed and heading for the kids when I remembered my current state. Naked and sticky with unidentifiable fluids on me. No way was I running to the kids like that.

“Your problem,” I told Andy rather smugly. “I have to have a shower. Good luck. We’ll discuss this later. And we will discuss it,” I said, putting an ominous tone into my voice. It seemed to me that I’d need to keep him off balance while I sorted things out.

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
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Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Angela “Angie” Sloan, a senior in her high school, woke up today, on her 18th birthday. She knew that her time had come at last. She had considered this matter seriously, and realized that she wanted to be a virgin until she turned 18, but then become a slut. Now, today, she planned to lose her cherry before the day ended. She had to make sure that she acted on her decision, and did not back out of it.

Angie loved the idea of sex, but, somehow, boys her own age just had no appeal to her. She dared not go for older men, until she was legal, because she did not want to lose her lovers to prison. She wanted them to stay free men, so she could continue fucking them.

So, she wondered, who would be her first target? There was Sven Gustafsen, her next door neighbor- a bachelor with an uncertain, unknown lifestyle. He seemed rather promising, assuming that he was straight. There was Yasuko Kawashira, a Japanese man living with his wife Aniko in their fine colonial-style house. Also, there was Allan Dumont, who lived as a “cuckold” for his dominant wife, Charmaine. He never got laid, and he only got to masturbate once a week.

That struck Angie as particularly odd. Here, Allan had a gorgeous wife, and he would rather watch her than sleep with her! Or, would he, she wondered? How much of this was consensual, and how much was imposed on him? Time to find out, she realized. That was whom she would give her cherry, as a kind of vengeance on a woman so cruel that she shamed all of womankind.

It was a Saturday, so she did not have to go to school. This was the perfect chance. She had to get showered and dressed, plus do her chores, but, once that was done, her time was free, for plenty of naughtiness! She wanted to sneak over to his place, and see for herself what his situation was- if very bad, then she would have to seduce him, in the interests of compassion and fairness, not to mention fun!

Angie was very excited, as she rushed through her shower, dressing, and even her chores, with an eagerness that surprised her parents.

“Well, Angie, you’re up early, and even doing your chores early! Who are you, and what have you done with my daughter?”, her Mom said.

“I’m an adult now, Mom. I have to act like it, don’t I?”, is all that Angie would say in response.

Angie’s mother just shook her head. At least, the weird, unusual behavior was constructive this time, she reminded herself.

Once she was ready, Angie made up some silly story that she was going to the mall, to shop for shoes, but she knew that she was really headed down the street, to see Mr. Bayan Eskort Dumont, and surprise him while he did chores. He always had the housework to do, even though he worked, and his wife didn’t. He did the load of 2 people, while she had plenty of time on her hands to fuck his friends.

She rang the doorbell, and sure enough, a naked man in a chastity belt was answering it, in the middle of his household chores, and obviously annoyed at the interruption, which might slow him down and get him in trouble with his wife. This was horrible, Angie thought. He shouldn’t be frustrated like this- no grown man should be kept chaste like that!

“Angie, what is this? I’m kinda busy here, as you can see?”

“Busy being the neglected, mistreated, jilted slave of your wife, you mean? I think that you can occupy your time better than that, don’t you? Look at me, baby, don’t ya wanna fuck this? I am as sexy as the wife who won’t fuck you, am I not?”

Allan stammered a bit, in reaction to the slutty way that Angie was dressed, in a tank top and hot pants, tight enough to show off her cute butt. His dick tried to get hard, but the poor man was not able to maintain his erection with the belt, let alone ejaculate. Angie giggled, and then took him by the hand.

“A little trick I learned from my best friend, Lenny, and yes, he’s a guy. You take a clothes pin and use it to pick a lock. There we go! You’re all free, and so is Dick!”

“Dick, oh, you mean, my penis?”

“Yes, exactly- your penis! It’s yours, not hers, to do with as you please. Now, does it please you to use it for my pleasure, as well as yours?”

There was only one possible answer to that question for Allan Dumont, who had not been laid in years. He grinned like a hyena at the thought of fucking around; after all, his wife was in no position to complain, after getting it on with so many men, without doing it with him.

“I’ll take that as a yes. Since you’re rusty, and I’m a virgin, yes, that’s right, a virgin, I think that we should both share power, and let it pass back and forth between us.”

“You want me to take your virginity?”

“Yes, you can remember what sex was like, enough to fuck me better than my classmates might, right?”

Sure, Allan thought. He just hoped that his cock would not get too excited, and prematurely ejaculate, ruining his first fuck in years.

“Well, buddy, I think that we need to get rid of that hard-on first, so you can have more control, don’t you?”

“How would you do that?”

“Simple- I’m gonna give you a blowjob! You’re Anadolu Yakası Escort gonna cum in my mouth, and then you will able to eat me for a while, without being tortured or forced to cum.”

Angie then grabbed his dick, and simply took it in her mouth, running her tongue from the base to the head, and back, repeatedly, so as to get him excited enough to cum soon. She wanted him free of that tormenting erection, so he could get her off without a distraction. Her mouth, it seemed to him, as massaging his cock, and tickling it, to such a degree, that it felt like the most wonderful sensation in the world. He could not describe how well it felt to have a young lady’s mouth around his cock, servicing him, for once!

Finally, however, the pleasure became so intense that he found himself gushing out his cum, deep into her mouth, so that it flowed down her throat.

She swallowed it happily, like it was a milkshake, and then licked her lips when she let go of his shrinking dick. She also noticed that his penis was a decent 6 incher. Who in the hell would lock up a 6 inch dick, presumably for life?

Admittedly, there were plenty of larger dicks, but those scared a petite girl like Angie. She wanted something in there that would not rip her open, thank you very much! A nice, average-sized penis was enough for her small body. Apparently, Mrs. Dumont had other opinions about the size of penises, if she didn’t want to use her husband’s.

Well, she could have all of the “jumbo franks” she wanted, because Angie wanted a regular sausage, which was safer, especially for a virgin’s tight pussy.

Angie made herself comfortable, lying on the sofa, and motioned a plea for Allan to come to her, and eat her out. Allan eagerly moved toward her, grabbed her thighs, spread them wide apart, and then began eating her cunt like she would not believe possible. His mouth was kissing her labia, tonguing her clitoris, and even inserting his tongue inside her pussy itself, in a repetition that was making her squeal, and even gasp, with her crescendo-building climax.

“Oh, my God! You’re the best pussy-licker I’ve ever met! None of my ex-boyfriends were that good, so I never wanted to go all the way with them, because they didn’t prep me enough. I would have gone all of the way for them, but they didn’t care about me, so why should I put out for them?”

“Did you suck their cocks?”

“Hell, yes! They loved it, too, but they never returned the favor, so I said to myself ‘they can kiss my ass’!”

“I love eating a girl, that’s the only thing Pendik Escort I like about Charmaine- eating her. She just trapped me into this, by threatening to have me gang-raped by her boyfriends. Otherwise, I would never have consented to this chastity thing.”

“Holy cow, that’s despicable! I hate the bitch, so I’ve got to take you in me, now, just to spite her!”

Allan continued eating her for a while, making circles around her pussy, before he finally stood up to get a condom. Angie knew exactly what he had in mind, and stopped him right there.

“No, God, no! Allan, fuck me bareback, please! I want your cum in a pussy for a change! You need this too, ya know! You need to feel a girl’s pussy around your cock, once again.”

Allan naturally granted that wish, entering her slowly at first, but then picking up speed, wanting to fuck this nice girl next door the way that she deserved, for having been so sweet to him. He kept fucking her harder, and harder, with his once more stiff manhood pounding her cunt with relish. Her sweet, tight pussy was just what the doctor ordered in his case. Nothing could have made him feel better than that.

Angie, for her part, was feeling more alive than she dreamed that she could, too. This wonderful cock, belonging to this equally wonderful man, was too much to let go. She wanted to have regular access to it. She had to have it in her frequently- it was just way too much pleasure to let it disappear from her life.

“Oh, holy shit, Allan- I want more of you, often! I want to be your lover!”

Allan at that very moment broke her hymen, and she felt a brief rush of pain as she bled, but, somehow, he managed to help it subside by fondling her legs and butt while it happened. She now felt a return of her ecstasy, as this lovely thing kept penetrating her, reaching deeper into her sex.

Angie knew what to do with this man. She would be a good mistress, share her lover with his wife, and make love to him often. She would also help him find other lovers, as she still planned to be a slut, and she wanted to be fair to him. She just knew that she had to be with Allan often.

Suddenly, as Allan filled her with his seed, Angie felt the most extreme delight that she had ever expected or experienced. She was thrashing around in her fantastic enjoyment of his cock. Her wet pussy was now totally soaked, and she kissed Allan passionately, with tongue, to let him that she was grateful for her first vaginal orgasm.

“Oh, Allan, I’m yours! I want to be your girlfriend, please! I don’t mind sharing you, if you’ll share me, but please tell me that I’m your girlfriend- please!”

“Angie, you are definitely my girlfriend now!”

“The hell she is!” spoke a new voice. It was Charmaine, pissed as a drunk in downtown Bristol. That was her problem, thought Angie.

To be continued…..

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Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

March 12, 2005

“So, what was it you were going to show me?” Corey Strickland asked.

“Oh, that has to wait until afterward,” Ashley told him, patting his thigh.

“Does it have something to do with why your… um… chest seeming larger today?”

“Maybe,” the brunette eighteen-year-old grinned. “A girl has to keep her secrets… until it’s time to show them.”

“Oh. Sure,” her boyfriend said, but Ashley was not convinced he believed her.

“It’s nothing bad.” She did not like silence between them, so she decided to give in a little. “Just a new bra.”

“You don’t need it,” Corey grumbled.

“I kinda do need bras. Well, maybe not need, but really, really prefer having…”

“Not a bra. That bra. One that’s… like that.”

“Like what?”

“You know.”

“Makes my tits look bigger? Who are you to say what I need, Corey? Maybe I like the way I fill out my clothes with this. Maybe I just want to see what it’s like to have larger boobs. Maybe…”

“This is because that asshole Darren said you needed a boob job.”

Ashley sat back in her seat, arms crossed over the topic of conversation. She did not want to talk about Darren Connors or anything he did or said on their ‘date’. He had been by far the worst client she had dealt with since deciding to take money to relieve select male classmates of their virginity. Corey had been the first, but that developed into something more. The rest were mainly nerdy type guys, awkward or shy or just distant, but none mean. Except Darren.

“You don’t. Your tits are perfect.”

“I don’t need you telling me what my body is,” Ashley snapped, regretting both her words and her tone.

“You’re right,” Corey nodded. “It’s not my position to tell you what to think about your body or what to do with it. But I can’t quit caring, and I can’t sit by and say nothing when I think you are making a mistake.”

“Let me off here,” she said, hand gripping the door handle. “I’ll walk the rest of the way.”

“I can’t not say anything because I think you’re beautiful the way you are?”

“Don’t give me that bullshit, Corey. This is about me fucking Ken Davidson last night. About me trying to get older clients. About me becoming someone you don’t want to be with.”

“Thinking you’re beautiful is not bullshit and you know it,” the young man said, anger hovering at the edge of his voice. “But I am worried about you. You don’t have to do all this.”

“Not again, please.”

“It’s few blocks more. Do you want me to stop?” Corey asked. She had wanted him to change the subject, so why did it make her even more angry that he did what she asked?

“No.”

“Fine.”

They spent the next several minutes in silence, and Ashely suspected that her boyfriend found himself as lost in his thoughts as she was in hers. She did not want to fight with him. But it seemed fighting and sex, either in person or over the phone the night before, dominated much of their time together lately. That had not been the case on Valentine’s Day, and the memory of the evening they had spent together helped erode her irritation with Corey.

“I’m sorry,” she said as they pulled up to an older one-story house.

“Me too, Ashy,” her replied, and the love in his blue eyes almost made her decide to forget her scheduled ‘date’ and go someplace with him. “We probably should talk about…”

“Everything,” Ashley finished for her boyfriend. “And not when you’re taking me to… well, you know.”

“Yeah.”

“I love you,” she said, leaning in to kiss his soft lips.

“Love you to,” he said before she exited the car.

Ashley resisted the urge to look back at Corey as she walked up the driveway toward the house. The lawn, green and well cared for, contrasted with the brown house with its slightly darker brown door. And to Ashley, who had spent much of her life hating the color of her eyes and hair, brown was boring. Corey did not think so, but he had blonde hair and blue eyes. What did he know about having to watch as everyone fawned all over people with his coloring?

It’s not his fault, she told herself. And she accepted the truth of that. But accepting it did nothing to allow her to feel better about herself.

She knocked on the dark brown door. When she started her ventures into prostituting herself, she would have been nervous at this point. She might have even needed to calm her breathing or make herself relax. But not anymore. Plus, it was only Simon Lancaster, a shy, soft, pudgy boy who seemed scared of everything, including girls. Her main concern about the ‘date’ was a fear that she would be sore from the sex the night before with Ken Davidson. But after a restive sleep, she felt ready to go.

The door opened to reveal Simon, who stood in the doorway, mouth ajar, his eyes roving over every inch of Ashley. For several seconds she waited for the inevitable, “Your Ashley Saunders” or something to that effect, but it did not come.

“May I come in, Simon?” she asked in a soft, sweet Kartal Escort voice after several seconds of awkward silence. but the young man just blinked, and Ashely’s smile faltered. This was going to be a lot of work, she realized.

“Simon…”

“Uh, okay,” he muttered, eyes cast down, hands in pockets as he shuffled to the side, leaving just enough room for Ashley to squeeze by him.

“Nice house,” she said, amazed by the cat figurines and pictures everywhere. The faint aroma of a cat box reached her nose, and she scanned the entry way and living room for the furry little creature or creatures she knew must be somewhere.

“My mom likes cats.” Blurted the young man, eyes cast down and cheeks red.

“Cats are cool,” she told him, running her fingers up his arm. The young man widened eyes met hers for an instant as he stepped back out of her reach.

“My mom got a lot of them when my dad left,” Simon told her after several seconds of silence, his gaze again locked on the floor between them. “They’re okay.”

“So, you want to go up to your room?” A feeling she could not quite name but knew she did not like had settled in the pit of the brunette’s stomach. Moving this along would probably help. At least she hoped it would.

“Um…”

“I’ll strip for you, if you want.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. I mean, that’s why I’m here, right? To do things for you?”

“Really?” he repeated, and this time the word ended with a squeak.

“Yeah. If you got the hundred. You do have it, right?”

“Yeah.” Simon nodded while fishing a wad of bills out of his pocket. He handed the case to her, and Ashley noted the dampness of his hands from the brief contact during that exchange.

He’s nervous as fuck, she thought, wondering how she could help alleviate some of that. With some other clients she had done it by being the aggressor. But she feared that might backfire with Simon.

“It’s all there,” he said in a rush as she straightened the bills.

“I trust you, Simon. Do you trust me?”

“Uh… yeah.”

“Good.” Ashley shoved the money into her purse, set it beside a Japanese style Lucky cat statue on a small table, and held out her hand. Simon was at most a few months her junior, but he seemed much younger. She felt his moist hand tremor as it clasped hers, and she gave him what she hoped was a reassuring smile. “Lead me to your room.”

The mousey-haired boy led her down a hallway adorned with more cat pictures and into a small, cluttered bedroom. Superhero figurines stood on almost every flat surface, and comic book posters covered nearly every inch of visible wall space. Many were of female superheroes whose exaggerated curves were covered by tight, skimpy costumes.

“If I would’ve known, I could’ve brought a Wonder Woman costume.” A large poster of the character hung over Simon’s bed, and she guessed from that and the number of Wonder Woman statutes that she must be a favorite of his.

“You’d… you’d do that?”

“Sure,” Ashley shrugged. “But I wouldn’t fill it out quite like her.

“You’re beautiful, Ashley,” he said, eyes cast to the side. “You’d make a great Wonder Woman.”

“Well, maybe after today, we can come to a deal…”

“I… we have a costume.”

“You do?”

“It isn’t mine,” he said, face crimson. “It was my sisters from a few years ago. It’s in her room.”

An image of Jeanie Lancaster, Simon’s sister, swam to the surface of Ashely’s mind. Jeanie, a thin, pale, blonde-haired girl a few years older than Simon, seemed the least likely woman Ashely could think of to wear a Wonder Woman costume, but she must have at some point.

“We had a big family Halloween party. She was Wonder Woman, Dwight was Batman, and I was the Flash.”

A new mental image, this one including a pudgy Flash and a rotund Batman alongside a skinny, blonde Wonder Woman, filled her head, and Ashley had to stifle a laugh. Dwight Lancaster, Simon’s older brother and Jeanie’s twin, was a large, round young man with long, lank, brown hair. Like Jeanie, he had gone off to college a couple of years back.

“Sounds fun,” she beamed at Simon. “I’ll do it if you go get it for me.”

“Oh… I can’t go in Jeanie’s room. She’d kill me.”

“She’s not here, Simon. She’ll never know.”

But the young man shook his head while he wrung his hands. Ashley made herself give him a small smile and a pat on one sweaty forearm.

“Which room is hers?”

“First on the left,” he mumbled, not meeting her gaze, as usual.

“Be right back,” Ashley said in an airy voice that did not at all match her mood. She did not mind dressing up. Indeed, she hoped it might make what appeared to be a disaster in the making at least somewhat fun for her. But she could not escape the growing suspicion that nothing she did could save this ‘date’ from inevitable catastrophe.

The austere décor in Jeanie’s room fit what little Ashley knew of Simon’s older sister. Everything was neat and proper and boring. Crossing Tuzla Escort the sterile room, Ashley resisted the urge to see what might be in the dresser drawers. She found the costume hanging at the end of the closet and pulled it out. To her surprise, there was not very much costume to the costume. Ashley has expected a modern, more modest Wonder Woman outfit, but this one looked like the one from the 1980’s TV series.

The brunette stripped out of her blouse and jeans. She hesitated for a moment before taking off the hot pink bra that made her breasts appear a cup size larger than they really were. She would have liked to have that additional fullness for the costume, but the outfit had no shoulders, so the bra straps would show. So, she slid off the bra.

“Here goes nothing,” Ashley sighed aloud, pulling on the costume, or at least trying to. It proved considerably tighter than she had expected, and she recalled again that Jeannie was a skinny girl. Peeling it off, the brunette found the tag and groaned. It was sized for a teen, not a woman. And although only eighteen, Ashley certainly had a woman’s body.

“Fuck me,” she said to the room before pushing her panties down and stepping out of them. Even their thin silk was too thick for her to be able to get the costume on over them.

This time, Ashley managed to wiggle the bottom of the costume up over her hips. The shiny, star-spangled material clung to her like a second skin, and a quick glance in a full-length mirror mounted confirmed her fear. Without panties, the costume created obvious camel toe between her legs.

“Fuck me,” she said again, closing her eyes as she pulled the top of the costume up, holding the front with her left hand while trying to zip up the back with her right. She managed to pull the tab about half-way up, but she could not move it past there.

“Hey Simon, I need help.”

Ashley walked to the door and turned her back to it. A few seconds later, she heard a sharp intake of breath behind her, and she knew that he must be looking at her bottom in the skintight outfit.

“Zip me up, please,” she asked, sweeping her hair forward over one shoulder.

“Um, okay,” Simon said, his voice low, almost hoarse. Ashely felt fumbling fingers on her back, and she sucked in a breath. Inch by inch, he worked the zipper up, and Ashley wondered if this is what a corset must feel like. She had wanted to buy one a few months back, but she knew her mother would not approve.

“Okay, thanks,” she said when the ordeal was over. “I’ll be there in a minute.”

For a moment nothing happened, then she heard Simon shuffle from the room. Ashley took several test breaths to make sure she could still breath, then moved so she could look in the mirror.

“Fuck me,” she said a third time, examining her reflection. The chest of the costume, which was designed to cup smaller breasts, crushed hers, pushing their top swell up into impressive cleavage that looked like it might spill out at any moment. Afraid to bend over, both from concern of splitting a seam as well as falling out, Ashley crouched down to pick up a bag that had been on the hanger with the costume. Inside she found bracelets, a black wig, a plastic gold tiara with a star on it, and a coil of yellow rope. She opted out of the black wig, even though her brown hair was considerably lighter. She did place the tiara on her head and snap the bracelets around her wrists. The coil of rope she hung from a small plastic hook sewn into the waist of the costume. And when she looked in the mirror, she sighed.

I look like street walker Wonder Woman, Ashley told herself. I just need a pair of red, high heeled boots.

Moving carefully, she went back to the closet. Sure enough, she found a pair of red boots. The heels were maybe three inches, so not that high, but she was sure they must have been for the costume because they matched nothing else in the closet.

“Oh, thank God,” Ashley whispered out loud when she looked at the shoe size of the boots. They were a size too big for her, but she could deal with that. Her fear had been that they would be too small and she would have to endure her toes being smooshed up like her breasts were. The brunette sat on the bed, conscious of how the costume’s middle section strained as she did so. Slowly, she drew on the boots then pushed herself to a standing position while trying to keep her abdomen as straight as possible.

She returned to in front of the mirror, and this time Ashley smiled. The boots completed the look, and had the costume not been a size or two too small for her, she thought she would have looked good. Perhaps she would find one that fit better and see if Corey might like her in it.

“Okay, can’t stall any longer,” she told her reflection. “Show time.”

Putting some sway in her hips, Ashely strolled into the hall and headed for Simon’s room. A black and white cat streaked past her, and she nearly tripped. A faint ripping sound reached her ears, and her fingers traced up the seam Anadolu Yakası Escort on her right side, finding a small hole. Trying not to breather too deeply, the young woman made her way the few feet her client’s room. When she reached his doorway, Simon, who had been sitting on his bed, stumbled to his feet. His wide eyes roved up and down, and Ashley forced her biggest smile onto her face.

“What do you think?” she asked, performing a slow twirl in the doorway.

Inarticulate noises came from Simon’s slack jaw as his breathing grew heavy. Still smiling, Ashely closed the distance between them, both excited and a little disgusted at the way he stared at her barely contained cleavage.

“Do you want Wonder Woman to be your first?”

Simon’s face, which had been beet red, drained of color. His pale gray eyes met her gaze and held it for several seconds before he nodded.

“In the costume, I presume. Well, that’ll be okay for the first part. It’ll need to come off for the second, of course.”

“I washed,” he blurted, and Ashely narrowed her eyes as she processed the seeming non sequitur. “Like you said in the email. I took a long shower just before you got here.”

“Oh. Well, good.” Ashley patted his arm and watched as the muscles quivered beneath the surface at her touch. “So, I guess you’re ready for Wonder Woman to suck your cock?”

“Uh… I… um… um…”

“Or maybe, you’re a villain and you captured her lasso. It’s magic, right? You could use it to make her give you a BJ.”

Ashley knelt, taking care not to bend too much in the tight costume. Once in places, she held the coiled rope out to Simon. The young man took it but did nothing else except stare down at her. Ashley made herself not roll her eyes. Instead, she clamped her arms to her side.

“Put the lasso over my shoulders, then slide it down and tighten it under my boobs. That’ll trap my arms too.”

His hands shaking, Simon followed her instructions, although she noticed he was careful not to touch her breasts. Had her arms been free, she might have smashed his hand against her chest.

“Okay, now pull your pants down.”

“Yeah… yeah…” Simon breathed, unbuckling his belt and shoving both his jeans and briefs down. His erection bounced free, and Ashley grinned up at him. He was about average size, at least from her experience, and nicely shaped. She preferred a bit more girth, but she had been with guys a lot thinner. With sudden hope that her earlier concerns about this ‘date’ turning into a disaster might not be accurate, Ashley let herself relax into the role she had chosen.

“I will never suck your filthy cock, Dr. Simon,” she said, hoping her expression conveyed a mix of fear and unwanted desire.

“Um… I have bound by your magic lasso, Wonder Woman,” Simon said, his voice unsteady and high-pitched. “You must obey my command.”

“I will resist with all my Amazon might!”

Ashley squirmed, doing her best to give the appearance of trying to escape the lasso.

“You cannot resist, Princess.” Simon’s voice came out steadier but no lower, and Ashley suspected she would have to prompt him a bit more to get things going.

“I will never do what you want, like lick your hard, throbbing prick.”

“Um… yes you will. Lick my… um… penis.”

“I can’t resist you,” the brunette said, leaning forward and running her tongue up the underside of her pretend captor’s shaft. Simon’s body stiffened and a sound between a whimper and a moan came from above her. Ashley looked up and saw the young man’s eyes were clamped shut. At the same moment, his penis twitched and a lower moan escaped his lips. Ashely drew back. However, a second too late, she realized she should have taken him into her mouth instead. Spurt after spurt of semen erupted from his erection, coating the brunette’s face and upper chest in warm, sticky fluid.

Quickest yet, Ashley thought as the last little bit dribbled out of Simon’s already softening manhood. Her second client, a sweet, shy young man named Grant, had ejaculated unexpectedly moments after she started sucking him, but even that had taken longer than Simon.

“I…. I’m sorry,” he stammered, and Ashely sighed.

“Take the lasso off, please.”

“Oh, sure.” And Ashley endured her client’s fumbling as he loosened the rope and then pulled it up over her head.

“And help me up.”

Simon held out his hand, and Ashley took it, drawing herself to her feet.

“I’m going to go clean this off,” she said, trying to hold his elusive gaze. “Then we’ll try again, okay?”

“Really? You’re not mad?”

“No, I’m not mad,” she said, rubbing his arm. “You’re excited. But you need to tell me before you’re going to come, okay? If I’d known, we wouldn’t have such a mess now.”

“Oh… sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry. It’s okay. Really. You’re not the first guy to get too excited and do that.”

“But… girls don’t like it… um… on their face. Except in porn.”

“If I’m ready for it, I don’t mind. But I need to be told first, okay?”

“Oh… um… sorry.”

“No more sorries, Simon. Now, I got to go clean up. Unless you want me to let it dry. Do you want to make Wonder Woman suck you off again with your cum drying all over her face? It’d be pretty fucking naughty, huh?”

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The road to Bracemere was wild an uneven, flanked by trees that writhed like claws in the wind, the moonlit hills stretching out behind them. From the windows of the carriage, Angeline watched them whip by, midnight-dark, against the grey hills and blue-black sky. It was miles to the nearest farmstead, and as she listened to the wheels of the carriage clatter and crash against each rock and rut in the road, she had fears of a wheel breaking or coming lose. But no such accident befell her. When the carriage came creaking to a sudden halt, this had a more dramatic cause.

“You know what I’m going to say?” a voice sounded from in front of the carriage. It was firm, confident, slightly mocking.

The coachman coughed. “I s’pose.”

“Well then, Stand, and Deliver! Throw down that musket and raise your hands. Then we’ll see what treasures you carry!”

The musket thudded on the road.

Inside the carriage Angeline blanched. Alone so far from anywhere, a robber on the road might take more from a lady than her silver, and so she pulled the hood of her satin cloak over her head to hide her face and straightened her long skirts to cover her slender legs down to the ankles.

Horse-hooves approached, and the dark silhouette of a horse’s head and then the rider appeared outside the window. The figure who leaned down to peer into the window was tall and slim, wearing a dark coat, a tricorn hat and a black handkerchief across his mouth.

“Well now, what fabulous treasure do I find? And so bashful? Pray, lower your hood, madam.”

Angeline sat still and silent. She did not obey.

The figure reached out his right hand, and levelled a long flintlock pistol inches from her face. He leaned forward and with a move of his wrist he flicked back her hood with the muzzle of the gun.

“Such a lady is a rare sight in these parts. You must be the Lady Angeline.”

Angeline looked surprised.

“I see that you are. And here I am on horseback – you must think that I have no manners!” And with that he swung down from his horse and reached up to open the carriage door. A pistol still in his right hand he held up his left towards her.

“I have no silver.”

“Indeed not. Your fortune awaits you at Bracemere. But it is you I am taking not your silver. Come.” And he beckoned, the hand still held out to help her down.

“I refuse!” she said defiantly.

“Madam,” he mocked, “you may think it heroic to resist me so that I must shoot you, but if I do that I must also shoot your coachman to remove the witness. I would hate to do that. Harry is a fine man and his kin would miss him. Come down. Do not make me murder your coachman.”

She grimaced but stood, keeping her cloak grasped in front of her, and dismounted from the carriage without taking his hand.

“Now,” he gestured to his horse and took the reigns in his left hand so that the horse could not bolt, “we ride from here.”

Trembling slightly, Angeline climbed into the saddle, and the highwayman leaped up behind, placing his feet in the stirrups but leaving the saddle for her comfort, and spurred his horse on away from the carriage and into the night.

His pistol put away, he took the reigns in both hands, one arm on each side of Angeline’s slender waist to stop her falling (or jumping) from the horse.

Her heart pounded with trepidation, and she adopted a defiant tone, refusing to let him have the upper hand entirely. If protest was all she could do, then protest she would.

“You hold me too tight, sir! Unhand me!”

“I will hold you as firmly as I wish,” she could hear him smiling, “And for now my arms don’t hold as tight as your corsets do already.”

“You are no gentleman sir, but a common ruffian, and should be ashamed of yourself!”

“I’m never gentle, but can be much rougher, if you wish. And highwaymen are not known for their shame.”

They rode for no more than fifteen minutes when they came to a junction in the road by a wood, where a young boy waited. The highwayman dismounted, and indicated that Angeline should do the same. When she reached the ground he raised her cloak from behind and slid his left hand up the back of her dress to the low hemline between her shoulder-blades, where he hooked his fingers over the dress and held it fast in his fist. With his right hand he drew the pistol.

“What are you doing, sir!”

“Ensuring that you can’t run.”

The cloak had swung open at the front to reveal a low-cut neckline, in the latest İstanbul Escort fashion. The young lad who had met them gazed at the shadows where her breasts plunged into the dress, and drooled: “Oh, she’s a nice one, mister – you’ll have some fine sport there!”

Angeline blushed and frowned.

The highwayman reprimanded him. “Don’t think such thoughts. It’s disrespectful. Now, take the horse.”

The boy led the horse away down one branch of the road, and the lady and the highwayman continued on foot, over a stile and into the wood.

“Are you saying,” she chided him, “that a scoundrel like you has not had such base thoughts.”

“My thoughts are always base, but I can control my tongue and be civil.”

Her heart quickened in fear.

“So you do plan to dishonour me.”

He stopped as he walked and she, held by her dress, was forced to stop too. He stepped close behind her, and his face-mask now lowered he put his mouth by her ear.

“If you ask me what base thoughts I have right now, I would say that I’d bend you over that fallen tree there and throw your skirts over your head, slap your arse until you had learned to keep a civil and ladylike tone, and then spread your legs and take you faster and harder than any woman has been taken before: I would make you howl with pleasure. But that is not my business, and I suggest that we are silent or return to more civilised conversation. Now, walk.”

He pushed her forward and they continued on, but she would not fall silent.

“You are a robber and a kidnapper. Why stop there?” Her heart still raced, but now that he had said that he would not touch her, the thought of what he would not do had an excitement to it, and perhaps it was not only fear that she felt.

“You misunderstand the reason for your abduction. This is for your good.”

“How so? Explain!”

“Tomorrow, perhaps.”

The highwayman’s cottage lay deeper in the woods. It had only three rooms and but one door to the outside – a door which he locked after they had entered. He pocketed the key.

In the firelight of the cottage Angeline could see her abductor clearly. He was tall and slender, athletic but not chunky, with a well-defined face that was certainly not unattractive. He was also not cruel. He fetched her bread, cheese and wine, and (though he stood guard a little distance away) he allowed her access to the outdoors privy. At length he said that it was late and they should both sleep, and he showed her to her room.

The room was small with a single wooden bed, manacles looped around the bedhead.

“You intend to chain me up?”

“I cannot have you escaping. The manacles are strong enough to hold a man, so should hold you well, and the chain between the two cuffs is long enough that you will be able to move. Now, lie down.”

She lay back with trepidation and raised her hands to her head as he instructed. He closed the heavy catches around her wrists, checked that the chain looped securely through the bedhead, and stood back to look at her. Her cloak had been left in the kitchen, so she lay in her long dress, which had ridden up to show her stockings up to the knee. His eyes travelled from her slender ankles, to her hips and waist, to low-cut neckline where her chest rose and fell quickly, to her tender neck and her face, besides which her pale arms were held firm.

“It seems uncivilised,” he mused, “to make you sleep fully dressed. But however much I want to remove your bodice and your skirt, I feel that that would be more uncivilised. So, sleep well.” And with that he cast a blanket across her, turned and left.

She heard him move across the main room to the other bedroom, and close the door behind him. Immediately she pulled against the manacles, but found that neither the chains nor the bedstead would give. She lay still and drifted into sleep where she dreamed a strange dream, of meeting the highwayman not as an abductor but a rescuer: she dreamed that he came across her manacled half-naked in the wood, so that she was obliged to find a way to thank him for rescuing her…. And suddenly she was awake, a thought clear in her mind: the manacles! They were designed for the thicker wrists of a man, and hung loosely on her. She squirmed her hands against the cuffs and after much effort and with some grazes she found that she could ease her hands through the hoops and free herself without forcing the cuffs open at all.

Now to escape!

She made for the main room Escort Bayan and realised that the door was locked, the key, as she recalled, in the highwayman’s coat pocket. The coat was nowhere to be seen: he must have taken it into his room. Then she realised that he might pursue her and she would also need a gun. His pistol, too, was missing, presumably also in his room. So, with a lantern in one hand she moved cautiously forward and pushed open the door to the other chamber.

He lay asleep in a broad bed. His pistol hung from a hook on the wall above and his coat was thrown down on a chair. Then another idea struck her. She returned to her room, unwound the manacles from the bedhead, and carried them carefully back into the highwayman’s room. In the coat pocket she found the door-key and the manacles’ key. She opened the cuffs and crept forward, leaning over her captor to thread the chain of the shackles through this bedhead. Both of his hands lay on his chest and the chain was just long enough that she could get one cuff to each fore-arm. She snapped the manacles shut one, then immediately the other, and he woke with a start. He tried to sit but the chain from his hands over his shoulder to the bedhead held him down. She snatched the pistol and pointed it at his face.

“Don’t struggle!” she ordered.

She thought now what she should do. She could shoot him. Or flee to the authorities and have him arrested and hung. Her gaze travelled down from his striking handsome face, to the shackled arms that lay over the sheet, over his flat stomach and the clear bulge which lay on it.

“Did I interrupt a pleasant dream?” she asked.

He looked frightened, but also he blushed.

She reached down with her left hand and pulled the sheet away. His cock lay long and fat on his stomach, nearly erect. She reached down and touched the shaft with the tip of her finger, and it twitched. She blushed and smiled. She ran her fingers up and down it, and soon it swelled to be rock hard. There were a hundred and one things that she only half understood, which well brought up young ladies simply would not do with their lovers, but here, with a highwayman, miles from anywhere, no-one would know what she did, and she didn’t have to care. She found herself growling with pleasure at the thought of it.

She leaned forward and, still pointing the pistol at the highwayman’s face, let the tip of her tongue flick around the head of his penis.

“This was never my intention!” he protested.

“You’re this hard, and it isn’t your intention?” She laid the gun on the floor and stood up, loosening the chords at the back of her dress so that she could slither out of the tight gown and let it drop to her feet. She stood before him, in a lose chemise that barely covered her breasts, her nipples clearly hard through the thin fabric, a tight corset over this about her waist, linen knickers, and white stockings held up by garters of blue ribbon. She slipped her fingers down the front of her knickers and looked the highwayman in the eye. She moved her hips against her hand and sighed. His eyes were fixed on her crotch. “You have no dishonourable intentions? I don’t believe you.”

She climbed onto the bed and knelt between his legs, holding his hip with one hand and taking his shaft in the other, holding his cock straight so that she could lick and suck at the shaft from every side. She slipped him between her lips again and filling her mouth with spit she sucked hard and persistently. He groaned repeatedly, and she dreamed of sucking him until he exploded in her mouth: she growled again with pleasure at the thought, but knew that he would then be spent and that that would be a waste. She pulled back and let her hands caress his dampened cock.

“Plesae, we should discuss this.” Recovered from his groaning, he began to protest again. “I didn’t want to take advantage of you.”

“Well, I’m taking advantage of this!” and she took him again in her mouth. But another unladylike thought occurred to her and she let him drop. “But if you’re going to complain, I’ll have to find another use for that overly gallant tongue.”

She crawled up to the head of the bed, wriggling out of her knickers as she did so, and knelt astride his head, one stockinged shin on either side of his face. She took him by the hair and pulled his mouth to her. “Lick me!”

He licked. She grasped for the bedhead and nearly screamed with pleasure. His tongue found her clit immediately, Eskort sliding across it gently again and again. She could stand no more than thirty seconds of it before she pulled away.

She slid back down the bed until she straddled his grain, and reached down to his hard cock. “Now, I have every intention of being magnificently dishonoured” she told him, “so don’t hold anything back!”

She guided him into her gently at first. He was a good size, but she was wet and ready for him. She wimpered as she slowly lowered herself down onto him, until her mound pressed against his stomach and the whole length was buried inside her.

She took his shoulders in her hands and began to ride him, as he moved to meet her movements. “Yes, yes!” Faster and faster they went, he reaching up with shackled hands to grasp her linen-clad breasts, her hair spilling down to brush his face. “Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes….!” The quicker they went the better it felt, and soon she was thrusting as fast as she could, but still wanting more.

Desperate to find a faster position, she pulled off him and turned around, guiding him firmly into her again, with her back now to him. She leaned forward, grasping his ankles as his cock slid in and out at this new angle. She braced herself against the firm mattress so that he could set the pace. “Get on with it! Just do me!” and the last traces of lady-like politeness disappeared. “Just fuck me as fast as you can!”

Suddenly he was sitting upright, and one hand reached out to grab her hair roughly. He was free of the manacles – and she realised that she had left the key in the lock. But so long as he kept ramming her, she didn’t care.

“As fast as you can take!” he told her, and pulled her off him, almost throwing her down onto the bed face-down. She raised herself onto her hands and knees as he got behind her and thrust deep into her. She fell forward onto her elbows and he took her by the hips, pulling her back onto him as he pushed forward, fucking her at an amazing pace, his hard cock ploughing unceasingly into her wet hole and his belly slapping on her buttocks. “Is that what you wanted?”

“Yes! More! Anything! Everything!” she gasped. “Every filthy thing you can think of!”

He moved one hand across her arse, sliding the thumb down between the buttocks to toy with her anus. She hadn’t even thought of that! “No time for everything! I’m going to come soon.” He kept slamming into her, hard and fast.

“Then what do you want?” she gasped.

“I want to keep fucking like this, then spray my cum over your beautiful breasts!”

“Oh yes!” she pulled the chemise off her right shoulder so that her breast hung lose, and grabbed his hand, pulling it to her. He grabbed it roughly and held firm as he slammed into her. Soon the force of his thrusts had pushed her forward onto her stomach, so that she lay flat, her hips tilted to let him in, he ramming her from above.

His breathing deepened until each breath was almost a grunt, and suddenly he pulled out. “Turn over – now!”

She turned over just in time, as he started to shoot the first fountain of thick white cum over her breasts. She grabbed his hips and pulled him towards her mouth, so that the third jet shot across her chin and neck and only on the fourth did she get her lips around him. His cum was thick and sharp, splashing over the roof of her mouth and down her throat.

He collapsed next to her, panting, exhausted. She was panting, too, but she came to her senses first and she remembered that this man was her kidnapper.

She leaped over him, onto the floor and picked up the gun. He looked up at her. He seemed not to care. She looked down at his beautiful body, and she knew that she was still horny. It had been fantastic, but she hadn’t come. “Don’t move.” She told him as, her right hand still levelling the pistol at him, she leaned back against the wall, parted her legs and slid two fingers of her left hand down to her pussy to rub each side of her clit. She stroked herself furiously, softly, then firmly, then softly, then firmly. He lay there watching, exhausted but enthralled by the sight of her fingers working her clit and her breasts jiggling with her efforts. She screamed when she came, the orgasm so powerful that it brought tears to her eyes.

She staggered forward, stepping into her dress and wriggling it back up to her hips. At last the dress hung loosely from her shoulders. She kept the pistol pointed at the exhausted highwayman as she tidied herself up, wiping the last drops of his cum from her breasts with her fingers and licking it off.

“Just one thing.” She told him. “When next we meet you won’t have to be so coy. You now have my permission to absolutely fuck me.”

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

The phone rings and it’s the wife. “Hi Honey, I’m going out with some of the girls from work ok?”

“Yea sure,” I said “I’ll be playing golf this afternoon so no problem. Have fun.”

“That was easy my wife.” said to her friend D, “where are we going?”

“Oh this restaurant’s bar that is having my boyfriend’s band playing.”

“Uh ok. Not too late though. I have to get my hair done tomorrow.”

“No problem you’ll be in bed by around midnight the latest!”

“So how are you and “The Big Guy” getting along?”

With a blush of embarrassment, my wife said “Fine, I really have a

great time with the toys.”

“How would you like to try the REAL thing???”

“NO! I don’t think so. You know I don’t screw around on the hubby!” the wife said emphatically.

“Ok, R. but if you ever want to, my guy has a friend called ENZ. If you want to try a BIG one in the flesh let me know.”

“ENZ, why do you call him that?”

Ha ha ha ha D laughed “Because it ENZ where it BENDZ! Silly.”

( Hmmmm, something to think…NAW! DONT even go there! asshole!)

“No thanks I don’t think so,.,”

“Well you told me about how you get really horny, with the dildo and the fantastic orgasms, that you have and I was just thinking. If you want the real thing I could probably set it up.”

“Have you ever fucked Enz?”

“No, I haven’t had the pleasure… but I have seen him, actually heard him, in action. He really is hung like a horse. MY friend M was screaming in ecstasy. With that massive hunk of meat filling her up!”

“OH MY!” R said.

“No more like OH FUCK!! FUCK!! My pussy is soooo full!!”

They booth chuckled, and headed out to the cars.

“Follow me, we can take both cars so if you want to leave early you can.” D said.

The girls got to the bar in about a half an hour. The band was just setting up. D introduced R to the K and the rest of band and got a table close but not too close to the stage.

The girls ordered pizza and a couple of drinks. D had a glass of wine and R had a Raspberry Stoly with ginger ale. They ate the pizza and ordered another drink as a few more people came in for the show.

D gave R a little nudge Escort İstanbul under the table and whispered there’s Enz. as he waved to the band members, and shook their hands before coming over to the table.

“Hi, ladies. Who is this D?”

“This is R, from work.”

“Hi Im J, nice to meet you.”

“Hi J I’m R.”

“Ill be right back, I have to get a drink, need another?”

The girls said they were fine and he left. R said” I am only have one more.”

“D, you didn’t say he was so friggin’ tall!!” R whispered.

“Well my K has known him for years and he says he’s a nice guy.”

“He’s kind of cute. BUT I have NO intention of doing him.”

D just smiled to herself. We’ll see. As J came back to the table with his drink. And a couple for the ladies.

The band started playing around 8 pm, and J danced with D for a while, and asked R for a dance but she declined. They ordered another round, and the band was getting into it. J kept pestering R for a dance, so after 3 drinks she finally relucted, to a dance. It first started fast then slowed down. J pulled R close as the beat slowed down and held her in his arms. She tried to pull back but his hand at the small of her back held her close to him. They’d danced and she felt his crotch at hers, and a swelling in his pants. My god he is hung she thought to herself.

The dance was over as the band took a break, R walked back to the table, J went to get another round of drinks.

R told D, YES he is hung like a horse, christ it must end when it…and they laughed as they said it at the same time. Yea when it bends!

The 5th drink had arrived and R was a bit tipsy and said she was heading home. J asked her if he could walk her to her car. She said ok, and they headed out. J turned to D and winked! They left the bar around 10:30 pm.

D smiled and thought to herself my friend you are really going to get fucked tonight!

J drove R home, she was a bit too drunk to drive. He put her in the passenger seat and tried to buckle her in and she grabbed the seat belt she missed and felt his crotch. A strange tingling sensation went through her body. He finished clicking her in and dashed around İstanbul Escort Bayan to the drivers side. He drove as safely and as quickly as he could following R’s directions.

They got to R’s house and her hubby wasn’t home yet. R said to J “He must still be at the golf club. Could you please help me into the house.”

J fumbled for the key while he was trying to hold R upright. She leaned into him and rubbed the front of his pants, and felt his dick getting hard.

“Thanks J I can take it from here.” patting the font of his pants.

“Nonsense, I’ll help you ALL the way in.”

The door opened and she stumbled up the stairs to her bedroom. J was holding onto her so she wouldn’t fall.

J said to R “D tells me you and the hubby use toys huh?”

R said “SHUSH! It’s supposed to be a secret!” blushing.

She flopped onto the bed and reached over to the end table and pulled out ‘The Big Guy’. “Yes we do!” I love my husband but I love this too!” holding the fake cock.

“Well how about trying the real thing?” he said as he unzipped his pants.

She was sitting on the bed as his pants fell to the floor and the tent in his underpants strained to get out. Staring right at his cock, she pulled his under wear down.

“NO I cant do this!” rubbing his cock. Watching it grow, and grow.

“NO, I love my husband. I can’t do this.” she said again as she grabbed his manhood with both hands.

J gently held her head as he pushed his cock into her mouth. R gagged a bit on his monster cock, as she started to suck on it like a straw slurping up the drinks she had tonight.

“I see ‘The Big Guy’ is pretty impressive, but dont you think Im BIGGER.

“Oh my, yes it is BIGGER than ‘The Big Guy'” she said as she licked the tip of his cock. “OH shit, I’m getting so fucking horny.” she said between licks.

“I think I’m going to have to have you fuck me with this!” she said smiling up at his face.

“Here let me help you out of those clothes.” J said as he pulled her pants off and tossed them on the floor. R pulled her shirt and bra off in one fell swoop and tossed them to the other side of the bed.

She was lying there Anadolu Yakası Escort naked and just staring at his cock, and sucking on him off.

“D said they called you Enz, and she was right! God I’m so fucking wet!”

“Come here and lets get started…but please go slow! It takes me a while to get up to speed with ‘The Big Guy’.”

J playfully pushed R onto her back and started licking her clit. Lapping at her woman hood, and fingering her pussy. She grabbed his cock and pulled it towards her pussy.

J slowly stuck the tip of his cock into her, as she grimaced a bit. She slowly got used to the size of his meat, and as her pussy adjusted to the size of it became more and more relaxed. He started to push more and more of his cock into her. She was so lubed by her juices it slid in easier and easier. Her pussy grabbed onto his cock, and squeezed onto his meat. J started to thrust a but harder and harder, and deep and deeper. His cock was going in and out like a piston, 8 to 10 inches at a time. He finally bottomed out, and R cried out”OH SHIT! My god! I thought the dildo filled me FUCK you filled me up twice as much!” R was all in a pinkish glow and sweating as J kept on fucking her. 10 minutes went by, then 15, then 30 minutes.

R was in was in such a frenzy of sexual pleasure she didn’t even hear me come in the house.

I just stood there downstairs listening to her go on and on about how great this feels, and how it fills her cunt!

I could almost feel the house shake from the pounding she was getting. I crept up the stairs as the squeaking bed continued to squeak and she continued to moan.

At the top of the stairs I peaked into the bedroom, and saw my wife

her eyes glazed over and this guy with nuts the size of plums, and a cock about a foot long banging my her like no tomorrow. Her legs were convulsing from her orgasms, and the smell of her pussy juices and his loads of sperm, made me sick.

I heard her whimpering “yes, yes yes fuck me harder HARDER”, as I slowly slipped back down the stairs, and out the front door. There was the woman that had only sex with nobody but me getting her brains fucked out by another guy. In our bed.

I guess I really fucked up with that BIG dildo and the vibrators. I know I’ll never be able to keep her happy anymore in the bedroom. I always thought it would be just us two. Little did I know I screwed myself as I was screwing her with the ‘Big Guy’ and giving her so much pleasure…

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
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Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

I felt a heavy weight in my stomach as I sat anxiously in my car, debating whether to get out or just drive home. I had no confidence that I was mentally prepared for this, but if I stalled any longer, I’d miss my appointment. I looked out across my corner of the parking lot and found it empty. That made it a little easier.

At long last, I left my car and started to make my way towards my actual destination. I had parked around the corner for the sake of discretion. I passed a man on my way there, he gave me a polite “good morning,” but I averted my eyes in shame and said nothing in return. He was a complete stranger to me, but the embarrassment that I felt at that moment prevented me from handling any normal interaction whatsoever.

I reached the entrance, took one last panicked look around, and entered the door labeled ‘Intimacy Clinic’.

The reception area felt entirely like a typical waiting room: cushioned plastic chairs, sporadic fake plants, and relatively unadorned walls. I avoided eye contact with the handful of people waiting for their appointments, whose heads turned to wordlessly acknowledge my entrance. I wondered if they felt as uncomfortable as me, but even if they did, I was not eager to share any modicum of our mutual shame.

I stood in the doorway for a moment before making my way towards the front desk, hesitant to the last. The woman behind the desk was pretty and young, with long blonde hair and bright blue eyes. I cursed fate for making her a pretty girl, humiliation is at its worst when attractive people are present to witness it. She looked up at me as I approached, gave me a pleasant smile and a kind “good morning!”

“Good morning,” I echoed, quietly and awkwardly. “I, umm, have an appointment at eleven?”

She asked my name, and I gave it. She then gave me a collection of paperwork to fill out, and graciously invited me to take a seat. I took the most remote seat and began looking over the paperwork. I quickly scanned over a few waivers, disclaimers, and consent forms, all of which seemed pretty standard to me, so I signed them without reading too deeply.

I then found a privacy notice that I was much more interested in. I read every word, making sure that my sessions would remain confidential. I was satisfied to find that the clinic required my explicit consent to release any and all information about my sessions. There was a curious amount of legal jargon concerning the care of session recordings, but recordings could only be made with my knowledge and consent, so I thought nothing more of it and signed the document.

The final form was the single-page sheet of paper that I had been dreading. It requested my personal information. I felt a cold sweat developing as I looked it over. I felt a bit better when I saw some text stating that all fields on this form were optional. But at the same time, I knew that they could only help me if I told them the truth. I began to fill in:

Age: 27

Gender Identity: Cis Male

Sexuality: Bisexual, slight preference towards female

Relationship Status: In a long-term relationship

And I froze up at the next box, titled ‘Reason for Visit’. This was the part that made me so anxious: having to admit to somebody else that I had an issue. I nervously glanced around, making sure that the nearest person was several seats away. I covered the paper from wandering eyes with my free hand, and quickly wrote down “Inability to orgasm during sex.”

I started to tremble, despising the fact that there was now a record of my greatest shame. I kept my hand pressed down over the embarrassing truth while I proceeded to fill out the rest of the form:

Number of Sexual Partners in Last Year: 1

Current Frequency of Sex: Once every other week, or so

Current Frequency of Masturbation: Daily, at least

I found those last two embarrassing as well, once they were written. I took another sheet of paper to cover up all of my answers thus far as I continued giving my responses:

Preferred Sexual Act: Sex from behind

Preferred Method of Stimulation: Erotic photography and literature

I doubted the relevance of those last two, but there was a part of me that enjoyed confessing them. Nobody besides my partner knew about them, and they were hardly as embarrassing as my previous answers. The last field concerned my willingness to try new sexual experiences, on a scale from 1 to 10. I put an 8. On the backside of the page there was a dedicated space to list any specific requests or notes about my sexuality or interests, but I couldn’t think of anything important enough to write, at the time.

I hurriedly rushed my papers back to the desk and handed them over. The receptionist smiled a thanks and asked me to wait for a moment. She turned away, towards a set of folders and filing cabinets. She flipped my packet open right to the last page and my stomach sank. Did she really need to be reading all of that?

She picked up a few folders and brought them to the desk in front of me. She laid them out and opened each as she İstanbul Escort started to explain, “there are three specialists who are available for an intake appointment at your scheduled time, whom would you prefer?” This seemed rather odd to me. I was entirely expecting to get randomly assigned to whomever happened to be available at the same time as me, I was shocked to even have a choice.

Each folder contained a large photo and a short biography of each specialist. The first photo was of a burly, bearded man with glasses. His name was Alex, his hair was just starting to gray, and he wore a dark suit. His biography included an education in psychology at a prestigious university and several accolades as a gay rights activist.

Next was a slender woman in a simple pair of jeans and a tee shirt. Her name was Susan, her black hair was tied up in a ponytail, and she was smiling widely at the camera with her hands on her hips. I would have guessed her age at an even 40. Her biography also lauded a number of degrees, as well as a best-selling book on sexuality, but otherwise emphasized the fact that she prioritizes the comfort of her clients, easing into the process of sexual betterment for those who might be more skittish around the subject matter. She certainly appealed to me.

The last option was a busty woman with short, dark hair. Her lips were pulled into a playful smirk and her arms were folded, framing her chest. Her name was Megan. She wore a black blazer with a red shirt underneath that showed just enough cleavage to catch my attention. Her age was hard to place, she could have been three years younger than me or six years older than me. Her biography spent no time whatsoever on her credentials, instead spending the time to talk about how she believes that the majority of sexual issues stem from a lack of understanding one’s own needs and desires, and how she expects total openness and honesty from her clients.

So I had a well-educated and experienced man, an equally well-educated woman who might be easier to talk to, or an intimidatingly beautiful woman who just might push me out of my comfort zone. I had no way of knowing which call was the right to make for myself, each had clear pros and cons.

“I wasn’t expecting to even have a choice,” I admitted. “How do I know which one is right for me?”

The girl replied, “honestly, it’s hard to say,” she gestured to a filing cabinet behind her, “we have dozens of other specialists if none of these interest you, but we would have to move your appointment to accommodate their schedules.” I frowned. “Besides, this is only an initial appointment, if things don’t go the way that you want them to today, I’m certain that at the end of the session, they can refer you to someone who might be more suitable for your needs.”

She sounded like she was reciting a well-rehearsed speech, but one that happened to be particularly unhelpful for me in making my decision. I stared at each photo for a moment, considering thoughtfully. After a few seconds of indecision, the girl finally hurried me along, in a voice just above a whisper, “I’m not supposed to say this, but to be totally honest, I’d just pick whomever you’re most attracted to. It helps break the ice a lot faster, if you know what I mean.”

I have to admit that I did not exactly know what she meant. How could being attracted to my therapist be a good thing at all? If anything, I’d be more comfortable talking to somebody whom I’d have nothing but professional feelings for. But at the same time, I kind of liked the way the receptionist looked at me as she talked. It was as if she had just told me some kind of sexy secret about herself, and she enjoyed knowing what pleasure I would take in knowing her secret.

Mildly turned on by her sudden breach of protocol, I took her advice, and chose the busty woman in the blazer. The receptionist quietly applauded my choice, and delightedly informed me that she would be ready for me in just a minute. I returned to my seat, puzzled and bewildered by the whole interaction. I basically just told a complete stranger that I found another complete stranger sexually attractive. It usually takes me years to develop that kind of relationship with a person.

I played the conversation back through my head, musing at its peculiarity as I began to wait. I lazily glanced around the room, still avoiding eye contact with the other clients. It was then that I finally noticed and considered the contents of the two pieces of artwork donning the wall opposite me. One was of a couple in bed, under a comforter, only their heads exposed, presumably getting intimate with each other, and the other was of a bare woman’s back, from the waist up. At first glance, their presence made sense, this was a clinic that dealt with sexual issues, mild hints at sex in artwork seemed relatively appropriate, but as I looked again, each photo was decidedly less subtle. In the first, the couple wasn’t actually a couple but a trio. What I thought was a throw pillow was actually the back of another man’s head, Bayan Escort and the central woman’s expression was not just a generic enjoying-herself kind of face, she looked to be having a rather strong orgasm. And in the other, the bare-backed woman was actually being straddled by a pair of knees on either edge of the frame, and just out of focus in the top corner was another woman’s face, mouth agape, making it not so much of an implication.

I honestly admired the way these photos got away with hiding their eroticism at first glance. It felt like stumbling upon a couple having sex in the woods, but instead of getting embarrassed, they invited you to join in. I let my arousal swell a little bit more, had I been alone, I easily could have enjoyed these photos much more physically with myself. However, it felt dirty to be looking at them in public.

After a few more quiet minutes of wondering to myself how appropriate it was to hang such artwork, the door next to the front desk opened, and out stepped Megan, my new therapist. Unlike the photo in her portfolio, she was now wearing a gray cardigan and a tight pair of jeans that quickly revealed the voluptuous curves of her lower half that were not visible from the photo.

She tentatively looked down at some papers in front of her and called out my name. I awkwardly raised my hand, giving a half-smile, and she beamed at me in reply. She excitedly gestured me forward, and held her hand out to shake my own as I approached.

“Hi! I’m Megan, such a pleasure to meet you,” she told me, “I’m very excited to be working with you.” She shook my hand and ushered me through the door into a short hallway that led to about six other rooms.

“Thanks… me too,” I replied meekly. Megan closed the door behind us and started to lead me towards the very last door in the hall. I appreciated being behind her, watching her sizable backside and hips move so fluidly in those tight jeans was hypnotic, to say the least.

She opened the door and gestured for me to enter first. “Make yourself comfortable,” she said, with a sly smile. I entered, and found a small room with not much more than a cozy two-person couch, a comfortable chair opposite it, and a desk in the far corner. There was a window by the desk with the blinds mostly drawn, allowing some natural light to enter the room. Above the chair on the wall was another photo, not entirely unlike the two in the waiting room. This one depicted a woman’s body under a thin bed sheet, her head out of frame. Upon second glance, the outline of her hand was obviously placed over her crotch, and the curves of her nude body were easily distinguishable. I enjoyed it considerably, but the fact that no actual skin was visible made it far less distracting than the other two. Still, I couldn’t help but wonder if it was truly appropriate. I didn’t come here with the intention of getting off, after all.

I assumed I was meant to sit on the couch, and took a seat there. Megan closed the door to the room, and sat on the chair across from me, moving it an inch or two closer. “Well, hi there!” she said cheerily. “How are we doing today?”

I shifted in my seat awkwardly. I hate small talk. “Oh, you know, pretty good,” was my generic response. “And yourself?”

She distractedly replied, “I’m doing fantastic, thanks for asking,” as she thumbed through my paperwork. “So, I’m sure you saw in these forms, but just to reiterate, everything that we say, or do, within this room is entirely confidential, nobody will ever find out, so please, do not hesitate to be honest with me about anything at any point in this process. In fact, the process can only go smoothly if you are perfectly honest with me. I can only help you if I have the whole picture.”

“Okay… good to know,” I let out, reassured yet again, but nervous that I was going to have to face some hard facts very soon.

“Great! Well then, let’s see here… It seems you have hard time achieving orgasm during sex, is that right?”

I was completely put off by her bluntness. This was the greatest shame in my life, so bad that I had to seek out counseling to try and remedy it, and here she was talking about it like it was nothing. “Y-yeah, sorta,” I said, more than a little embarrassed.

She seemed to notice. “Hey, it’s nothing to be ashamed of. You’d be surprised how often this sort of thing comes up. And usually it’s perfectly treatable, people can absolutely end up having very fulfilling sex lives afterwards. But first, I’d like to ask you some pretty personal questions about your situation so that we can see where to go, would that be okay?”

I proverbially kicked myself for not choosing Susan as my therapist. Instead, this woman was being so goddamned direct about this, she was expecting me to talk about the most private and intimate parts of my life without even bothering to let us get acquainted as people first. It made me uncomfortable, but now that I was here, I felt obligated to see at least one session though, so I begrudgingly accepted, “sure.”

“Great, so have Eskort you also had this problem with other sexual partners, other than your current one?” So far, her voice sounded clinical.

“Yes, every partner I’ve ever had sex with,” I replied honestly and uncomfortably.

“And have you ever been able to have an orgasm during sex?”

“Umm…” I hesitated, not really wanting to answer. “Maybe, like, twice? And those happened… years ago, at least.” I felt shear humiliation boil up inside of me as the words left my mouth. I bowed my head to look down at my feet.

“I see, that’s good, and do you have any problems achieving orgasm during masturbation?”

“No,” I responded curtly, humiliation turning suddenly to irritation. I wasn’t impotent, if that’s what she was implying. I felt an unfamiliar and furious sensation beginning inside me. I caught myself before I said something stupid, took a breath, and continued “I have no problem cumming on my own, it all works, believe me… but it does, sorta, take a while, still.” The feeling inside me quickly turned back to shame.

“Oh, really? How long?”

I shook my head and began to stare at the ceiling, still unable to look at her. “It depends… but usually like an hour… or two, at most.”

“Wow, that’s quite a long time! And I see here that you masturbate daily despite that, do you find that to be painful on your genitals?”

I chuckled to myself, relaxing slightly for the first time, “honestly… after a certain point, that kind of pain is just sorta part of it.” I was strangely proud of my answer, so I finally glanced in her direction to gauge her response.

She was smiling to herself as she made some notes on the back of my form, saying “Ahh, good. Good to know, I mean.” She looked up and our eyes met for the first time since we started talking. I admired the light, chocolaty color of her eyes, and the warm expression on her face. Her smile persisted as she said, “and thank you for being honest, you have no idea how hard it can be to get a client to open up about what they enjoy. Please, keep it up, and we’re going to have a very good time.”

I felt strangely validated and at ease with that. Maybe she was just more kind than I gave her credit for initially, or maybe it was just that my admission earned a purely positive response, without even a hint of judgment. I let out a sigh and relaxed further in my seat as she continued her questioning.

“How long have you been masturbating?”

I felt comfortable in replying, “Most of my life, probably like 15 or 16 years?”

“And having sex?”

I shook my head to myself, trying to recollect the accurate answer. “I was 17 when I first had sex, I think, but then, you know, it was off and on again for the next few years. I only started having sex regularly… like 4 or 5 years ago? And even then, that was only if I happened to be in a relationship with somebody.”

“So then, how does sex usually go for you? Between you and your partner, I mean, without you having an orgasm.”

I tensed up again. “Well… I used to try and keep going as long as I could… but then, you know, one of us started getting sore, cramping up, et cetera… so now I usually just go until they cum, then I pretend to cum, and then we’re done.”

“Well, that’s nice, at least! You sound like a decent partner. Maybe not an honest one, but it speaks well to your character that you don’t sacrifice your partner’s pleasure.” She looked kindly at me. I felt warm inside, all of a sudden.

I said, “Thanks. May sound weird, but that means a lot.”

“You’re very welcome.” She winked at me. “I am very sorry that you’ve felt unsatisfied by sex so far, but I am glad that you can still manage to find satisfaction in yourself, that’s very good. So what do you do for those one or two hours while you masturbate? You wrote down… ‘Erotic photography and literature’. What sort of subject matter?”

As I was about to respond, she set down her notes and casually removed her cardigan, revealing a tight black tank top that did her upper half all kinds of favors. I could just make out the edges of a black bra that supported her breasts into a perfect and gorgeous cleavage that her tank top framed dramatically.

“Uhhh…,” I did my best to steal a glance at her chest, then quickly looked up above her so she wouldn’t catch me staring. But of course I saw the photo of a woman who was presumably masturbating under a bed sheet and looked back down at Megan, forcing myself to lock eyes with her and look nowhere else. “Yeah… I like… stuff.”

She laughed, and her boobs bounced lightly as she did so. I unconsciously looked down to watch them, and immediately forced them back up. My penis twitched involuntarily, and she spoke, “Oh, come on! Don’t hold out on me now! You’re doing so well!”

I stammered, “Y-yeah, no, I mean… It’s just that I… don’t really talk about this kinda stuff, you know?” That was only half true, I’ve talked about my kinks with countless of anonymous strangers on the internet, and a handful of real-life friends, but I felt compelled to invent some excuse to explain why I was so flustered. Telling the truth, that my mind was absolutely consumed with the thought of shoving my face into her beautiful tits, didn’t seem quite right at the moment.

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Perhaps you have known the undeniable thrill of plucking the forbidden fruit.

I work for a firm that does computer repair, and makes house calls. You may have heard our advertisements. We even work on Sundays, although we charge a bit more.

I got a call today, which is a Sunday, to solve a computer crisis for a lady named Caroline who lives near the beach. I had planned to do some shopping this afternoon, but it could wait. The boss said the lady seemed distraught, and our firm advertises that we respond quickly to emergencies, so I shelved my plans and drove down to the suburb where she lives.

Caroline met me at the door. She looked a bit tense and seemed nervous. When I introduced myself and said, “Pleased to me you,” she replied by saying “Pleased to me you, too, also,” and then averted her eyes. She was a nice looking gal, tall, almost my height, with a face that was pretty in a plain sort of way. She had light chestnut hair, and was a bit stocky, but curvaceous. She was wearing a modest white blouse and slacks, although it was plain to see that there was an ample bosom straining against the confinement of that modest blouse.

She showed me to the little home office where her computer was. She said she was unable to get online with her dialup ISP. It took only a few minutes of tinkering to discover that there was a problem with her firewall. I disabled it, went online briefly to look at the company homepage, and discovered that there was a minor conflict with the latest update from Microsoft. In fifteen minutes, everything was back in working order.

Caroline had been watching me look with a sort of anxious melancholy on her face. When I told her it was fixed, she seemed disappointed, but dutifully wrote out a check to the company. Then she asked me if I wanted a drink.

I told her that I didn’t drink that early in the day, and besides, I was on the clock. I was wearing my wedding ring, in case she had any ideas about romance. Then a pained look came over her face. I thought she was about to cry, but instead, she began to speak.

“It’s been so long since I’ve had a man visit my apartment. I’m really sorry — I guess this is really out of line — but it has been so long, won’t you please make love to me?”

I was dumbfounded. I patiently explained to her that she was a very pretty woman, but that it was altogether out of the question, because I Pendik Escort was married, and I would never want to jeopardize my marriage.

“Look, I promise,” she said, “you’ll never hear from me again. It will be a completely chance, one-time encounter. I don’t know where you live, I’ll never try to contact you.” Her big eyes were fixed on mine with a look of desperate entreaty.

I had never expected to run into a situation like this. “Caroline,” I replied, “I don’t know you. What if you have AIDS, or Mono, or some other thing that I might pass on to my wife. It’s too dangerous. I’ve really got to go.”

Caroline reached out and put her hand on my forearm. She was looking again like she was ready to cry. “Please. I understand. I don’t want to hurt your marriage. It’s just that I can’t stand to be alone right now. What if…” she hesitated. “What if I, you know, make myself cum, and you just stay and keep me company while I do it.” She seemed to choke on the words. “I’m so embarrassed… it’s just that, I don’t know how to say it, I need it. I need it really bad.”

I hesitated for a second. I was moved by her appeal, and, I admit it, a bit turned on by the uncontrollable sexual force that had so clearly possessed Caroline. “Well,” I said doubtfully, “I guess it wouldn’t hurt for me to stay for a few minutes. But I can’t have any contact with you, you know, no exchange of bodily fluids.”

Biting her lip, she replied, “OK. Thank you. Just sit with me and talk to me while I do it.” She sat down on the couch, looked at me, and then blushed deeply. “Well, I guess I’m going to take off these clothes.” I nodded mutely and sat in a chair nearby.

Despite the forwardness of her proposition to me, she seemed quite shy. She sort of turned away from me to remove her blouse, as if modesty were in order for such an unusual encounter. Still turned at a angle, she reached behind her back to unhook her brassiere. With her back to me, she carefully put the blouse and bra down on the arm of the couch then she turned to face me.

She was still blushing, but she had a new, slightly determined look in her eye. Her breasts were full and gorgeous, with big, erect, pink nipples. She cupped her breasts with her hands, and began to pinch her nipples. “I like to play with my breasts to get started,” she said awkwardly. I shifted in my chair, trying to become comfortable Kurtköy Escort despite my growing erection.

As she continued to rub her taut nipples between her thumbs and fingers, she seemed to be becoming less embarassed, and a bit more brazen. “This feels good,” she said. “Thank you.” I nodded.

After a minute she stood up. “I’ve got to take off my slacks, now,” she said somewhat apologetically. Again she turned her back to me, unzipped her slacks, and stepped out of them. She turned to me wearing only a pair of chaste white panties. I could see the dark triangle of her bush outlined inside them. She sat down again, and began to rub herself through the panties. Occasionally she would slip a finger under the elastic along her inside thigh, and allow it to make direct contact. She would close her eyes momentarily in pleasurable excitement, and then open them again to look at me, to confirm that I was paying attention. “I’m really wet,” she announced.

I think she could see my hard-on. There wasn’t much I could do to hide it. “I’m going to take off my panties,” she said. “Could I ask if you… could you take off your trowsers, so I can look at you while I do this?”

I was thinking that this was probably a mistake, but by then she was standing again and pulling down her panties, this time without turning her back. Her pussy looked so lovely and exciting that I felt that I should oblige her. “All right,” I said, and standing up, I pulled my pants and underwear down to my knees, and sat back down. My cock was hard as a rock and throbbing.

“Oh!” she said. “You have a nice one!” Her right hand was moving methodically over her pussy now, dipping inside for juice, and then circling her clit, while her left hand flitted from nipple to nipple. She was breathing heavily now and staring intently at my cock. She moaned, and said, “This feels so good.”

I was thinking that it was a big mistake as I did it, but I put my own right hand on my cock and began to stroke it very slowly. Caroline smiled in appreciation and began to make little mewing sounds. Suddenly she stopped the motion of her hands.

“Listen,” she said. “Could you suck my nipples? There’s no danger in that. No bodily fluids. I would really appreciate it. I think I’m going to cum soon.”

At this point, I think it was too late for me to say no. I got down on my knees on the floor next to Maltepe Escort her, and seized her left breast with my hands. I began to run my tongue around her big nipple, feeling the rough texture, and then nipped it gently with my teeth. Caroline was masturbating intently again, moaning with each exhalation of breath. I moved to the right hand breast and began to work on that nipple.

“Oh, god,” exclaimed Caroline. “Let me make you cum with my mouth. You can’t catch anything that way. Please!” I hesitated, and she took advantage of my hesitation to reach down and seize my cock with her hand. I gasped in pleasure. I didn’t realize how excited I had become by this whole unexpected tableaux. Before I could object, Caroline was on the floor, bending down to take my cock in her mouth.

The pleasure was almost unbearable. I suppose it was the forbidden nature of the encounter that had made me the helpless victim of her lust and my own. She took me slowly in and out of her wet mouth, sucking me with an amazing urgency. At this point I lost all control of myself. I broke momentarily free from her and moved sideways into the 69 position. I offered my cock once more to her mouth as I violently seized her thighs and brought her wet cunt to my mouth. I couldn’t believe how good she tasted. I was headlong into devouring her pussy when her climax began. It must have been multiple orgasms, because it just kept going on and on, and then I felt my own orgasm suddenly coming on like a freight train, and I shot again and again into her hungry mouth.

We lay silently for a minute or so. Then she turned around to face me, her eyes burning with intensity, and whispered to me, “Please, let’s fuck. Please.” She reached for my cock, and the moment it felt her hand, it was hard again. I rolled onto my back, and she quickly straddled my thighs and guided my cock inside her. She sat up and began to methodically ride me up and down, while squeezing her breasts with both her hands. I was bucking my hips to meet her; we found a certain point of teasing friction that was exquisite. I had forgotten all about my ethical qualms. I surrendered to her lust. Her cunt was divine.

“Caroline,” I demanded, “sit on my face.” She obeyed. She moved up and planted her wet pussy on my mouth, rocking back and forth against my lips and tongue. Her cunt was all swollen and wetter than ever, and I cried out with pleasure as I ate her to another orgasm. She flooded my face with her climax, and then moved back down to mount my cock again. At this point we began to fuck wildly, keeping in synch with each other, but moving rapidly with all our might to a tremendous mutual climax.

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